Rehabilitation
by hetalialovesyou
Summary: He had expected dying to be, well, a bit more painful.
1. Can we keep him?

"As if this day couldn't get _any_ worse…" grumbled a fair-haired man, taking shelter under a building's canopy as rain mercilessly poured down on the city.

First, the man had fallen asleep on the job—because he had spent the entire night before trying to finish paperwork he was asked to do, that wasn't even his own—which caused his boss (who _obviously_ had a stick up his ass) to throw a hissy-fit. Now, he was jobless, tired and stuck in the rain on his way home.

His horoscope was _so_ off this month.

"There has to be a quicker way home," he frowned, lifting his jacket over his head. His house was that far away, and he usually enjoyed walking back home. But this was just _ridiculous._

_Ah, the subway's not that far off._

Quickly, Alfred sprinted toward the subway's entrance.

_I can't let Mattie know I got fired, _the blond man thought as he swallowed thickly. _God, he'd be so disappointed. _

He sighed to himself in displeasure. He hated lying to his little brother but he couldn't let Matthew know his hero was a failure.

"Mattie! The hero's home!" The blue eyed man bellowed as he opened the door with a hearty laugh.

When there was no immediate answer Alfred automatically assumed the worst.

_Oh__** shit**__. He better not be hurt. God only knows what he does at home alone…_

"Matthew? Where are you?" He shouted again, looking throughout the house until he finally spotted his younger brother outside, hovering over something the blond couldn't make out. Opening the glass sliding door he sighed.

"Mattie, _what_ are you doing?"

The curly haired blond jumped up and turned to look toward the source of the voice.

"Alfred, you're home!" He exclaimed with a smile, "Come here and look at what I found!"

Said man walked close, obviously not in the mood for games.

"What is it, Matt?"

"I found an angel!"

Raising a brow, the older man peered over his brother's shoulder and his eyes stared in shock.

There was an _angel_ in his backyard.

As he stood with his mouth agape, Matthew smiled.

"_Told_ you so."

----

An angel.

There was a _fucking_ angel in Alfred F. Jones' backyard.

He did _not_ feel like dealing with this right now.

"Can we keep him?"

"Him? It's a _boy_?" Alfred scowled. _Why couldn't a girl angel end up here at the least!?_

"Please, Alfred?"

"He's not some kind of pet, Mattie! He's a human being…sort of…I _guess_." Alfred snorted as he gently moved Matthew to the side and hoisted the angel into his arms. He was oddly light.

"I'll lay him down and wait for him to wake up. Why don't you get me a glass of water and those clean blankets from the dryer?"

"Do angels drink water?" Matthew questioned.

"I don't _know_, Mattie, just go."

With a nod and a scattered smile the younger blond ran off to the laundry room. Alfred walked up the stairs and laid the…thing down on the guest room's bed. Realizing that now that his job—that paid him very well—was gone, he might have lost the ability to keep this beautiful house. Alfred sighed at the thought and grabbed a chair to sit beside the bed.

The angel had sandy blond hair. His cheeks were pale, pallid almost, and he had a scrawny figure with very delicate limbs and pretty fingers. _Very feminine for a supposed guy_, thought Alfred with a slight smile.

Yet the only thing Alfred could not keep his blue eyes away from were the angel's eyebrows. They were…_massive_. And not the, oh, I could possibly overlook those, kind of massive. They were the, I'm not going to be able to ignore that, kind of massive. It was really starting to creep him out.

After tearing his eyes away from the angel's eyebrows, Alfred realized that his pale skin was covered in scrapes and countless bruises—_probably from the fall_, he figured. His cheek had a long scratch that traveled from the side of his eye nearly down to his jaw, and his wings looked so fragile, as if they could break just from touching them.

"Wow. You really did a number on yourself." The taller blond said with a sigh, shaking his head.

It was then that Matthew had walked back in.

"I brought all the stuff, Alfred." He smiled, fixing his glasses as he dragged the blankets behind him that were almost twice his size.

"Thanks, Mattie," he grunted, putting the covers on the floor for the moment. "Watch him for a sec', I need to get some wrap and antiseptic."

Matthew nodded and stood at his post, trying not to stare at the angel.

"Will he be okay?"

"I dunno," said Alfred from the bathroom, grabbing bandages and rubbing alcohol.

"How long until he wakes up?"

"I _dunno_, Mattie." Alfred sighed, he knew his brother was a worrier but this was getting annoying. "Scoot over," he mumbled as he started to unravel the wrap and take out the bandages. "Open the alcohol, will ya?'

Once he had finished expertly bandaging up the angel, Alfred sat beside Matthew whose amethyst eyes were still fixated on the creature.

"How did you even find him, Mattie?" Alfred said quietly, breaking the silence.

Matthew played with the odd curl in his hair. "I had seen him flying around earlier this morning, but I thought it was just a big bird," he mumbled with a slight pout. "But after lunch, when the storm had started, I saw him crash in our backyard."

Alfred grunted again. It was definitely odd. But he shrugged it off and rose up from his chair.

"Let's eat."

It wasn't until later that evening—after Matthew had fallen asleep on the couch and Alfred was washing the dishes—that they heard a sound from upstairs.

Deciding it would be best to leave Matthew asleep, Alfred carefully walked upstairs, not knowing what to expect.

"H-Hello?" Alfred peered through the door to see the creature sitting upright on the bed. He smiled slightly and walked inside. "Ah, look at who's awake!"

The green eyed angel merely stared down at his feet.

"Ya hungry? I made extra food for you just in case you were. I also brought you some water." Alfred smiled hospitably and extended the water out towards him.

Peeking up at the blue eyed man he cautiously took the water.

It stayed quiet for awhile until the angel finished the drink.

"I-I _am_…hungry…" The angel said weakly and Alfred smiled again. This made the angel hot-cheeked.

"Well, come on then. I'll heat up some food."

The angel didn't move. Well, it was actually more like he _couldn't_. The pain in one of his legs was killing him. He only stared at Alfred, hoping the blue eyed man would get the point.

"Need help?"

The angel nodded as Alfred walked across the room and lifted the other into his arms carefully. "It's just down stairs," he said softly, his lips grazing the top of the angel's hair.

It was at this that their hearts had slowly began to graze at one another's.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs they were both greeted by a sleepy, yet enthusiastic Matthew.

"Mattie, you should be _asleep_." Alfred frowned as the angel squirmed in his arms. He wanted to get down.

"What's your name?" Matthew quickly questioned as he grabbed the creature's hand while Alfred put him on the tiled floor.

The green eyed man flushed, not resisting the little boy's hold.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland."


	2. Strangers

Arthur had woken up to find him in a _strange_ setting. In a _strange_ bed, in some _stranger_'s house, eating even _stranger_ food, ugh. His head throbbed in pain.

"Mattie, maybe you should get to sleep, Arthur barely woke up." Alfred suggested, only getting a frown from the younger boy.

The green eyed angel shook his head. "I don't mind," he said softly causing Matthew to grin and tenderly tug at Arthur's fingers. Alfred sighed, but he smiled as well. Arthur, on the other hand, went slightly red.

"So, you just _fell_ out of the sky?" The older blond asked from across the small dinner table, watching as the creature picked at the hamburger on his plate.

Arthur nodded. "The storm was pretty bleeding rough, I mean, I got knocked into a telephone from the winds, and I guess that's how I ended up in your backyard."

Alfred tilted his head at the way the creature spoke. He grinned. _So, we have a British angel in our house. As if it couldn't get any weirder than this._

Matthew kept gazing at Arthur as if he was the most interesting thing in the world.

Which he _probably_ was.

Catching a glimpse of the time Alfred smiled. "Come on, Matt, you need to go to sleep, you have school in the morning."

"B-But, I wanted to stay up and talk to Mr. Kirkland more," he fought back, even though he knew he was in for defeat. He could only feign sleep for so long.

"Excuse us for a sec'," Alfred gave Arthur a smile as he lifted Matthew over his shoulder and carried him up the stairs. Arthur could hear soft, tired laughter and Matthew's giggling.

They were taking this all much better than he thought they would.

After all, if he was human and an angel landed in his own backyard, why, he would've gone off his trolley! But this man simply opened his house up for him as if it were nothing. As if Arthur was normal. He smiled at this thought.

_Alfred was a really nice person_.

"Sorry if he bothered you or anythin'. He tends to get a bit excited." Alfred said as he came back from Matthew's room. Arthur shook his head in reply.

It stayed quiet in the kitchen for awhile.

"Can you fly?" Arthur heard the man in front of him ask quietly, almost in a childish sense. Arthur nodded.

The angel could feel the blond man's beautiful blue eyes on him. He tried not to tremble. "I…I think my wing is broken," Arthur mumbled, pointing to one wing that was at a different and awkward looking angle than the other. Peeking down at their feet, Alfred could see that it was dragging on the ground.

"Prop it up on the table." Alfred ordered as Arthur quickly complied, not knowing what the man planned on doing. It was a broken wing, it would heal by itself. _Hopefully_.

Alfred let out a soft sigh as he noticed blood splattered on the snow white feathers. "Does it hurt?" he questioned as he tenderly searched for the source of the blood.

"A little."

"Just a _little_?" Alfred made a face as he rose from his chair to grab iodine and the antibiotic he had used earlier. "Follow me." Alfred motioned with his hand to Arthur, leading him towards the first floor's restroom.

_Why are you doing this?_

"It might sting a little, be careful," the man warned as he stretched out the wing slightly and began to pour the iodine solution he had made on the wound. Arthur bit his lip, ignoring the copper taste in his mouth and laid his head on Alfred's shoulder. It didn't sting a _little_, it burned like bloody _hell_.

Alfred, now flushed, let the iodine solution soak through and opened the antibiotic. "S-Sorry," he apologized, slightly embarrassed as he carefully poured the other liquid on the wound. This time it didn't hurt as much.

Arthur had gripped onto Alfred's shoulder, balling a part of his shirt in his hand as he waited for the pain to go away. "I'm gonna tape your wing to your body now, okay? I don't want it to be draggin' on the floor and gettin' all dirty." Arthur just nodded. He noted that Alfred's aura calmed him instantly. He also liked his scent, and his gentle voice. But it was _just_ an observation.

They both remained quiet while Alfred taped the creature's wing to his body.

"C-Careful! That hurt!" Arthur mumbled in pain against Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred quickly jumped up. "I'm sorry!" He clumsily finished up the job. "Can you breathe alright?"

The angel let go of Alfred's shoulder, automatically missing the warmth—not that he'd _ever_ admit it though—and turned to look at his wing. "Yeah, it doesn't hurt that much anymore. Um…thanks, you know, for everything." Arthur said, almost silently and stood up. He had to admit, it was pretty uncomfortable at first, but it was something he could get used to for a little while.

"I guess I should be on my way," Arthur said as he tried to walk around the restroom, getting used to the awkward weightless feeling on his right. Alfred remained seated and watched, trying not to laugh at the graceless angel.

It wasn't long before Alfred couldn't contain his laughter anymore. He broke out into guffaws which only made Arthur Kirkland aggravated.

"What's so bleeding funny, huh? Have you lost your plot or something?" Arthur frowned even more, a blush rising to his cheeks. Alfred was laughing. At him. If it wasn't such a beautiful sound, the creature was sure he would've knocked him out cold.

Alfred only smiled at the British angel, who continued to look shafted.

"I-I'm sorry!" The blue eyed man gasped out, holding his sides, "You just look so funny, and you're _so_ off balance!" Alfred's laughter boomed through the house. If Matthew wasn't used to this by now, he would've jolted awake.

Arthur only made a face that somewhat resembling a pout. It made Alfred smile more.

"Don't leave yet, _please_." He pleaded now, his voice soft and tired. He kept his smile on and Arthur stood in front of this man, cheeks flushed. "Matthew will be so sad if he doesn't see you in the morning. Nobody ever visits us…and you're in no condition to leave anyway."

The green eyed angel opened his mouth to retort, but was immediately cut off.

"Please, just stay a few more days."

Arthur sighed. _It couldn't hurt_, he guessed.

"A…Alright," he muttered in defeat.

And Alfred smiled.


	3. Pancakes and soap operas

He didn't want to bother Alfred but he couldn't sleep.

After realizing that Arthur wasn't physically able to walk more than ten steps at a time, Alfred—quite _heroically_—escorted a blushing Arthur back to the guest room. It was then that Alfred, without warning, had collapsed on the guest bed.

It made Arthur Kirkland smile.

"Stupid gitface," he whispered, taking a seat on the chair beside the bed, watching the blue eyed man sleep. "_How_ do you expect to take care of _me_ when you can't even take care of _yourself_?"

Alfred answered with a loud snore.

"You're just a child…"

After watching the human slumber peacefully for an hour or so, the angel began to feel sleep overcome him.

The green eyed creature figured out the hard way that sleeping on the chair was _definitely_ out of the question. So, hoping that Alfred was a heavy sleeper, Arthur climbed into the bed beside him.

The blond man stirred slightly and turned on his side, facing the other, which made Arthur lean back. He was on his side as well, and even though the bed seemed pretty big before the American had taken up quite an amount of space.

"Good night, human." Arthur murmured as sleep slurred his voice, and curled up against the blue eyed man, falling into a deep sleep.

"…good night, Arthur,"

---

Arthur woke up the next morning to find himself in a bed by himself. To the left side of him, the covers were tossed and the mattress was still warm. He smiled slightly to himself and cautiously got out of bed, heading downstairs.

He was greeted happily by an eager Matthew and the smell of pancakes.

"Morning, Mr. Kirkland!" Matthew smiled, chewing his food in a rush. His school bus would be here any minute.

Arthur chortled. "It's _Arthur_, Matthew. Just call me Arthur."

The curly haired blond nodded, and gave him a spacey smile as he grabbed his backpack and gave Alfred a chaste hug. The older blond responded with a quick peck on the head. "Have a good day, Mattie," He smiled and went back to his cooking per usual.

The angel walked over to the table clumsily after waving good-bye to the little boy. Alfred grinned at the sound of the other's feet tapping around on the ground uncoordinatedly.

"Sleep well?" Arthur could barely hear him over the sizzling of the frying pan.

The creature nodded, as if the blue eyed man could see. "Yeah, it was really…_warm_." He reddened, glad the man was concentrating on cooking, or else he would've seen his face.

"Sorry I kind of collapsed on your bed," Alfred laughed warmly, the sound filling Arthur's ears. "I was dead tired, I hadn't realized it until it sort of, y'know, _happened_."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

_I rather enjoyed it. _

"Alfred." The man said as he placed a plate of hotcakes in front of the angel. Confused green eyes stared up at blue.

"My name," Alfred chuckled, taking his own seat beside Arthur, "it's Alfred."

Arthur could feel his face get hot. "O-Oh…um, well, thanks…erm, _Alfred_."

"Coffee?" The man questioned with a piece of a pancake hanging on his chin that he apparently didn't notice.

Arthur shook his head, lifting his hand to brush the piece of pancake away only to get uncomfortable look from Alfred. It occurred to the angel that it probably seemed like he had just caressed the man's face. "Pancake. It was on your chin." He fumbled the words out quickly to his defensive and went back to eating, a blush on his cheeks.

Alfred was grateful Arthur didn't look up from his food because his face was just as red.

_What the __**hell**__ am I doing?! I got embarrassed just because the guy __**touched**__ me! How more gay can I get?! _

Alfred peered over his syrup soaked pancakes, watching as Arthur fiddled to hold his fork, his hand trembling.

He went red in the face.

Apparently, he could get _a lot_ gayer.

An eerie silence hovered over the thick atmosphere. Neither man knew what to say. Of course, it wasn't everyday that you were stuck home alone with an angel. And it also wasn't everyday that you were stuck in a house not your own, with someone you had just met the day before.

"Wanna watch tv or somethin'?" Alfred spoke up, washing both of their dishes in the sink. "I'm never home all day so this is kind of new to me as well. I have no idea what to do with myself here," he admitted, a bit a pain lingering in the back of his throat. It just occurred to him that he had lost his job.

Arthur nodded. It didn't matter to him, as long as they broke the uncomfortable silence that had him fidgeting in his chair.

The taller blonde placed a gentle hand on the other's shoulder, assisting him into the living room.

Warily helping Arthur onto the couch Alfred plopped beside him, turning the television on. "What do you wanna watch?" Arthur shrugged and Alfred exhaled noisily. He had forgotten, angels didn't have cable in heaven. At least, in his mind they didn't.

Making sure to stray away from anything romantic, Alfred had noticed the toga-like dress Arthur was wearing was from the night before. He hadn't even _offered_ him a change of clothes.

"Do you want some different clothes?" Alfred inquired.

Arthur gazed down at his outfit; blood splattered on the back, still slightly damp from the rain. New clothes sounded wonderful.

"Yeah, if you don't mind, I mean."

"Not at all," the blond smiled as he jumped off the couch, leaving Arthur to place his hand over his chest. His heart was pounding, just because of a _smile_.

_I'm so pathetic._

The blue eyed man came back with a fresh change of clothes: a plain shirt, and some sweats. "Sorry if they're a bit big. I was going to offer Matt's clothes but he's a little too small."

Arthur smiled and took the clothes. Alfred's face went pink as their hands brushed. "I'll go change then."

Alfred nodded, slumping against the couch as Arthur disappeared into the bathroom.

"I'm so pathetic."

Arthur quickly came back just as quick he had left and took his seat beside Alfred, who was already into whatever television show was currently on. The green eyed angel wasn't paying any attention, of course, he couldn't see what the big deal was with the bloody thing in the _first_ place, but from the corner of his eye he watched Alfred's countless expressions throughout the show. He suppressed laughs and relaxed against the posh couch. Arthur simply took the pleasure of Alfred's presence.

It wasn't until the third episode of the show that Arthur noticed Alfred was snoring. Apparently, he hadn't gotten as much sleep as Arthur had.

"You'll hurt your neck sleeping that way." He mumbled to the other, nudging him with his elbow. This only made Alfred sway and end up with his head on Arthur's lap as the rest of his body sprawled out along the couch.

Arthur's cheeks flushed with blood, but contained his composure.

_You really need to learn to take care of yourself before others_.

They stayed in that position for awhile. Arthur would glance down every other moment or so to make sure he was asleep. And on certain occasions, if he was feeling brave enough, he would stroke Alfred's silken hair.

"What going on in the episode?" Arthur heard a calm voice ask.

He bent his head down to see Alfred, blatantly awake, staring at the television screen. First he wanted to yell at the man who had been pretending to be asleep, but after thinking it through rationally and seeing as how Alfred probably never got a chance to rest until now, he let it slide.

"Jonathan's cheating on Ruth with Olivia, Claire had her baby, and Marissa was shot on the way to see her lover Sam who had just woken up from his coma." Arthur said calmly as he smiled down at the blond on his lap.

Alfred smiled in return and closed his eyes.

"Your fingers are really cold." Alfred mumbled, curling on his side, facing the angel who, at this moment, looked like an average human. "They felt nice."

With a crooked smile Arthur's green eyes scanned the other's tanned face. Alfred was absolutely beautiful, in that rough boyish way. His eyes and his smile made him even more irresistible, Arthur had decided. Running his fingers through Alfred's golden locks he heaved a silent sigh.

_What the bloody hell have I gotten myself into?_ Arthur questioned himself, as he leaned down to give Alfred a featherlike kiss on Alfred's cheek.

Alfred's eyes fluttered open for a moment look glance up at the red-faced man and he grinned. "Wake me up in two hours or so. Mattie should be coming home soon," he instructed before closing his eyes again.

"It…it was just pancake. You still had some on your face."

Alfred only chuckled.

"Well then, thank you."


	4. Hero

A/N: I just wanted to apologize if it seem like Arthur and Alfred's relationship seems rushed. I got some complaints on livejournal about it so I just wanted to apologize ahead of time. Thank you.

* * *

"I'm home!" Matthew exclaimed, opening the backdoor.

Arthur, who had been fast asleep on the couch with Alfred still on his lap quickly jolted awake. He shoved Alfred off of him and onto the carpet.

"Jesus Christ, Arthur! What was that for?!" Alfred whined as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh, put a sock in it Alfred!" Arthur snapped, trying to act normal as Matthew turned the corner. "Hullo Matthew, how was school?"

_Oh, that's why_, Alfred frowned.

"Alfred, what are you doing on the floor?" Matthew asked as he stood beside Arthur.

"I kind of rolled off the couch."

_Why'd you even move me? It's not like we were doing anything wrong_. The blue eyed man pouted, getting off the ground and stretching his arms.

"O…Okay." Matthew said, accepting the stupid excuse as Arthur rolled his eyes. "Ah, Alfred, I don't have any homework today! Will you play with me outside, please?" The young child begged with his big lilac eyes.

Nobody could possibly say no to that face. Even Arthur felt himself wanting to say yes.

"Is that okay with you, Artie?"

The green eyed angel scowled. "It's perfectly fine, just don't call me that ever again" He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair.

---

"Ah, it's so nice outside today," The older blond grinned, his hair being thrashed about by the breeze once he opened the glass sliding door.

Matthew had already pushed past the taller men and dashed out into the small garden, shouting something about how the flowers he had planted were finally growing. A smile couldn't help but creep onto his pale pink lips.

He had decided that if he would've had a child while he was alive, that he would've wanted him to be like Matthew.

Alfred stood beside Arthur, sliding an arm nonchalantly around the creature's waist and began to lead him over to the huge tree in the center of the backyard. This only resulted in a flustered Arthur.

"I can walk, Alfred! I'm bleeding fine!"

"Stop being such a big baby, Arthur." The blue eyed man said with a frown as he leaned Arthur against the tree. The green eyed angel decided not to push his luck.

Alfred heaved a sigh and ruffled the shorter man's hair playfully. "Wait here, I'm gonna grab some drinks. You thirsty?"

"I'm fine." Arthur said stubbornly, keeping his eyes on Matthew, who at the moment was chasing after a couple of birds and sifting through flowers. He squeezed his eyes shut when the boy had fallen over and landed slowly on his side. Clumsy little bugger, he was.

With a smile Alfred shook his head and jogged over to help his brother up.

The creature rubbed his throat. He was parched. But being the obstinate person he was, he wouldn't say so, of course. It was just in his nature. Instead, he watched as Alfred chased Matthew around playfully. It made his heart expand with a warm feeling.

He was jealous.

The angel wished he could've had that kind of family; someone to wake up to in the morning, somebody to hold and talk to you every day, somebody to fight and cry with. But maybe, just maybe, he could pretend to be apart of _this_ family. Maybe then, he'd be happy, even if it was for a little while.

Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts when a soda can was shoved in his face.

"Coca-cola?"

Green eyes met blue.

"T-Thanks," Arthur mumbled as he opened the can. Alfred, again, stood beside him like before.

"I'm not thirsty," Arthur said sternly. "I told you I wasn't."

Alfred only smiled. "I know. But you were lying. So I got you one anyway."

The green eyed angel stared at his feet, sipping his drink. He had been caught red-handed.

The two stood in silence for awhile as they watched Matthew run around the backyard, blissfully unaware of the awkward aura the two were emitting. Setting his drink down by their feet, Alfred leaned against the tree, his hand landing on top of another small hand—this producing a blushing angel.

Alfred intertwined his fingers with Arthur's, not even tearing his eyes off of Matthew for a moment.

Arthur—who by now was a beet red color—stared up at the blond man.

_You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?_

Alfred glanced down at the hot-cheeked creature and smiled.

_You're changing everything._

He gave Arthur's hand a gentle squeeze and kissed his pale forehead. "Pancake. You had some in your hair." The blue eyed man grinned from ear to ear, leaving the angel in a sputtering mess.

"Arthur! Alfred! Come play with me!" Matthew shouted in his soft voice, running toward the older men.

The two exchanged a glance and a smile.

"Okay, okay we're coming," Alfred laughed, tugging Arthur along with him.

----

"He's dead asleep," Matthew giggled, hovering over his older brother. Once they had all walked inside, Alfred had staggered over to the couch and fell asleep again.

Arthur chuckled.

"I guess we really took a lot out of him." Matthew said with a yawn of his own.

"You should get some rest."

"But, Ar—"

"No buts." Arthur scolded. "Up the stairs now, Matthew."

Matthew frowned but his lips quickly replaced it with his usual scattered smile. "Love you, Arthur," he said quietly, giving him a hug around his waist before running up to his room.

Arthur could feel his cheeks burn.

"Did Mattie go upstairs?" Alfred croaked, his voice rimmed with sleep.

The green eyed angel jumped up slightly. He _really_ needed to stop doing that. "Yeah, he did."

The golden blond reached out for Arthur's hand again. _Comfort, that's all it is, _he assured himself as dainty, pure white fingers tangled around course, and calloused tanned ones.

Arthur pulled Alfred's hand into his lap and ran his slender fingers along it. "You shouldn't push yourself so hard. If you're tired you should just say so."

"I'm all Mattie's got." Alfred frowned, gazing up at the angel beside him under half-lidded eyes. "And I'm going to give him 110% of myself."

_You're ridiculous._

"If I'm tired, I get over it and play with him."

_How can you do that to yourself?_

"If I'm sick, I play it off and keep him happy."

_You'll run yourself over the edge._

"Even if I was on my deathbed, I'd spend my final hours just trying to make him smile."

_You're inhuman._

Arthur leaned over, silencing Alfred with a gentle kiss. "You're an idiot."

"I prefer the term hero," Alfred said with a sleepy smile as he started to drift off into a slumber.

"You'll kill yourself."

"…I know."


	5. Interviews and phone calls

A/N: "Camp" in British slang means "a person who shows gay or effeminate behavior." If this is **wrong** I blame the **internet**. And sorry for the cliffhanger. :)

* * *

Arthur woke up to find that Alfred was already up making breakfast as usual.

Getting up, the angel staggered drowsily to the table. He noticed something different about the blue eyed man. Definitely _different._ But he couldn't seem to put his finger on it though.

Feeling the angel's gaze Alfred turned away from the frying pan.

"What's with the stare?" Alfred asked with a nervous smile. _Maybe I had dressed up a bit too much_.

_Oh. He's wearing formal clothes_, Arthur told himself as he scanned his eyes over the tie, buttoned up collared shirt, and black slacks.

"Oh," Alfred chuckled, fixing his tie as he turned his attention back to the frying pan that was now hissing. "I'm going to a few job interviews today. I had lost my job the day Matthew and I found you."

"…I'm sorry."

The man laughed boisterously, grabbing a few plates from the cupboard. "It's fine! I hated that job anyway. My boss was a German asshole."

Arthur smiled, laughing quietly from across the table. Alfred placed a plate of food in front of the angel.

"Just please don't tell Matthew," Alfred added quickly. "I don't want him to know."

The creature nodded. Unsure. _Why would he keep something so trivial like that away from Matthew? _It baffled him.

It was then that Matthew had darted down the stairs. Apparently he was late. It was then, that it finally occurred to Arthur.

He was going to be home alone _all day_.

Hiding a frown, Arthur picked at the food before him. Alfred and Matthew were chatting animatedly at the stove. Their conversation was cut short when Alfred saw the school bus in front of the house through the window. Handing Matthew a piece of toast, the boy sprinted out the door, nearly forgetting his school book.

"Ah, it's almost time for my first interview." Alfred said, mainly to himself as he glanced up at the clock. His eyes fixated on the sulking angel sitting at the table.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to leave you alone but I had no choice. I can't take you out in public, of course. Will you walk me to the door, _please_?" Alfred begged, grinning from ear to ear as Arthur rose up from his chair.

"You're _so_ camp." Arthur grumbled under his breath, only receiving a questioning look from Alfred. He was glad that the man didn't understand his dialect for once.

The angel followed the blue eyed man to the door, grabbing the suitcase he had left behind at the table. Arthur handed it to him and Alfred smiled warily. "I wish you could come with me. It'd be nice to have someone there."

"I would, but these bloody wings are kind of a problem that can't be overlooked, you know."

Alfred beamed, and opened the door slightly. "I know. Be careful, a'ight? I don't need you settin' the house on fire or somethin'. Matthew comes home 'round three, so he'll be here before I am. I'll call the house phone once I'm on the way back, 'kay?"

Arthur nodded. This felt oddly like a married couple situation.

"I'll see you tonight." Alfred chuckled, before leaning down to gently steal a kiss from Arthur. He watched for a moment as the pale angel's cheeks flooded with blood and laughed, shutting the door.

"Bastard." Arthur grumbled to himself as he stomped off into the living room.

The angel did not know what to do with himself. How could people stay locked away at home for such _long_ amounts of time? It was ridiculous. Arthur sat on the couch for a good two to three hours, flipping through the channels on the television. Granted, it took him an hour in the first place to remember how the remote worked. But still, even with one thousand channels there was nothing on.

Alfred would never hear the end of this. He was going to argue and argue with the man once he got home. You don't just leave someone who's trying to recover home alone! Arthur grimaced. The house seemed unreasonably empty without the others.

Arthur heaved a sigh and decided he would walk around the house. Get to know his surroundings better. Maybe that could get his mind off of being alone.

----

"So, why were you fired from your last job?"

Alfred swallowed thickly. "I, erm, I fell asleep on the job"—at this he received a glare from the interviewer—"but I'd been workin' the night before! I didn't have time to sleep at home 'cause my boss was over workin' me! I didn't even get paid _overtime_!"

It stayed quiet in the office for awhile. Alfred scratched the back of his head nervously as the interviewer placed Alfred's papers down.

"We'll keep your records on file. Thank you for your time."

"Thanks." _Bitch._

Alfred scowled as he shut the door behind him. That was the second fail of an interview already. This was not going well. Even though he was worrying about his next interview—which he was already ten minutes late for—Arthur couldn't help but cross his thoughts. The flustered look on his face after Alfred had kissed him kept replaying in his mind.

The blond man blushed.

_I hope he's doing all right. I'll call him in a little while just to check up on him. _Alfred glanced at his watch as he rushed back into his car. Twelve minutes now.

"Shit," the blue eyed man cursed under his breath as he quickly sped off down the road. "Only ten more interviews to go…"

---

It was already three o' clock. According to Alfred, Matthew would be home any moment now. Arthur had finished his little house exploration and had just woken up from his nap on Alfred's bed. He did _not_ sleep there because he missed Alfred, of course. It was the last room he had wandered into, and it had just seemed so comfortable.

The angel's cheeks burned.

He couldn't even believe his _own_ lies.

As Arthur sat up on the bed, he heard the phone downstairs start to ring. He guessed it was Alfred, seeing as how he told Arthur specifically that he'd be calling. Carefully making his way down the stairs he found Matthew walking through the doorway with his usual spacey smile Arthur loved to see.

"I'll get it," he said happily as he threw his backpack down on the floor, jogging over to the phone.

Arthur took a seat on the couch. He hoped it was Alfred. He couldn't wait to scold the human for leaving him by himself.

Matthew quickly brought the angel out of his plotting. "Arthur, Alfred wants to talk to you!" The curly haired blond held out the receiver towards the angel.

Arthur went hot-cheeked. "T-Thanks."

"H…Hullo?"

"Ah, there's my little angel." Arthur could feel Alfred smile through the speaker. "How are you holding up?"

"D-Don't call me that. I'm perfectly fine. Matthew just got home…What time are you coming back?" Arthur blushed, holding tightly onto the receiver. He was lucky the wall was there for him to lean on. He had started to feel the ground under him start to move.

Alfred grinned. "Eager to see me, or what?"

He laughed happily, making Arthur flush even more. "Oh, belt up! M-Matthew just wanted to know when you were getting home is all!"

There was a pause. Then another laugh, softer this time. "Well, tell _Matthew_ I should be getting home in three or four hours. Oh, and tell _him_ I can't wait to see _him_."

"O-Okay."

"See you later, _Matthew._"

"Shut up!" Arthur shouted, flustered as he hung up the phone with more force than necessary. When Matthew tried to ask him what was wrong he blushed again and said it was nothing.

----

"Hell, I didn't think that last interview would take so long, it's already seven." Alfred mumbled to himself on the drive home. He was almost home, carrying another failed attempt at job hunting on his shoulders. The blond hoped that Arthur wouldn't ask about it. He was already feeling pathetic enough as it was.

As he pulled up into the driveway he could see two figures running around the house. Alfred shook his head and smiled.

"What are you guys doing?" The blue eyed man questioned upon opening the door. He was greeted by a smiling angel and brother.

"We cooked you dinner! Arthur made the chicken and bread; I made the mashed potatoes and poured your coffee!" Matthew said merrily as he ran over to greet his brother.

Alfred stared at Arthur in shock. "You cooked for me?" He could feel a smile creeping up.

Arthur snorted. "It wasn't_ my_ idea."

"But, you were the one who told me to help you, Arth—"

"Matthew!"

Arthur went red, caught in another lie. It made Alfred smile even more than he already was. "Thanks, guys."

----

It was after dinner that Alfred figured he was left with no choice. He never thought he would have to stoop so low as to call _him._ Just the thought itself made his stomach churn. But then again, that food he had just eaten didn't help at all.

He waited in anticipation as the phone rang. And rang. And _rang_.

Just when he was about to slam his phone shut in anger, a man answered the phone.

"Hm, and what do I owe this _wonderful_ pleasure?" The voice on the other line teased.

Alfred frowned. He was really going to do this.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

"…I'm listening."


	6. Unwanted visitor

Arthur woke up the next morning due to the sunlight that had crept through the window. He exhaled noisily, still a bit groggy as he sat up in his bed. Peering over at the clock he scratched the back of his head. It was already seven.

Sitting on the foot of the bed, he stayed silent for a moment. He didn't hear Alfred's booming laughter coming from downstairs. _Odd_. The angel shook it off, seeing as how he knew Alfred was tired from driving all across town for his countless interviews.

_Oh. I had forgotten to ask him about that last night, _Arthur remembered as he headed downstairs where he found Matthew diving into a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

"Muhnin' Arfuh!" Matthew said with mouthful of cereal. Arthur frowned. Apparently Alfred had done a _wonderful_ job at teaching the child proper manners.

"Morning, Matt. Would you like me to make you breakfast? It seems your brother is still asleep." Arthur offered, walking towards to the kitchen area.

The amethyst eyed boy immediately went stiff and quickly scarfed down the rest of the cereal in his bowl. "N-No thanks! I'm full!" _I don't want a repeat of last night's cooking._ "Ah, my bus is here, see you later!"

With that Matthew stumbled over to the door, grabbed his things and left.

Arthur grimaced.

"You don't have to seem _so_ bloody eager."

Hearing a knock on the door, the angel rose up from his chair, expecting that Matthew had forgotten something. Which he did; one of his school journals with a polar bear on the cover.

"Here you go, Matthew. You've _ought_ to pay more attention and stop forgetting your things," Arthur scolded upon opening the door, shoving the journal forward. The hand that took it, though, definitely did _not_ belong to Matthew.

"Oh my. What do we have here?" A fluttery voice questioned as Arthur raised his head slowly to stare up at the man.

He didn't know why, but he was pretty sure he did not like this man.

"Why, you are so _beautiful_!" The man stepped forward as if to admire the British angel up close. "What's a sweet chaton like you doing in_ this_ house?"

"Francis, don't start."

Twisting around to find the source of the voice, Arthur saw Alfred walking towards them. Ah. Just like a hero to the rescue, right in the knick of time.

Alfred stood beside Arthur and scowled at the older man.

"Ah, aren't you, mon ami, the one who told me to come over in the first place?" Francis grinned deviously, his eyes fixated on Arthur. "And how rude of you! You haven't even introduced me to this blond beauty."

The angel was definitely confused. Having this man in the house could blow his cover _completely_! Had Alfred gone mad? After all, if Francis were to find out, he would probably go crazy and tell everyone he possibly could. And then where would Arthur be? Stuck in a cage somewhere, being poked and questioned by humans all day and night. He shuddered; he would _not_ last in those conditions. Arthur could feel that Francis would not be the type to keep his lips sealed. This man was a _definite_ threat.

"This is Arthur," Alfred mumbled. "Don't get any funny ideas."

The curly blond's smile only grew wider.

"Arthur," he breathed the name out sensually as he took said man's hand and kissed it. "How wonderful it is to meet you, mon cheri. I hope we can get _better acquainted _soon, if you understand." Francis smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

Arthur's cheeks burned.

"Francis!" Alfred shouted, taking a step forward in anger, but Arthur had beaten him to the punch. Quite_ literally._

Leaning against the wall for support Francis wiped his mouth, his lip possibly busted. But it had only egged the man on more.

"Oh~! Feisty, are we? I am going to enjoy staying here _very_ much."

Arthur was brought out of his fit of rage.

_Stay? Here? Oh, no, no, no. This pervert is __**not**__ staying here. I will__** personally **__make sure of it._

"Alfred."

"Arthur, listen, I can explain! I swear!" The blue eyed man assured the angel. The Brit was about to lash out in anger but was stopped by a restraining hand on his wrist.

"Francis is…trying to_ help_ my situation." Alfred grumbled in a barely coherent voice. He was clearly frustrated from having to admit that he, Alfred F. Jones, needed help. Especially from someone like Francis. "He's gonna stay here and pay rent just 'til I can find another job. Please…try to act _reasonably_."

At this time Francis had already gotten off the wall and was acting as if the squabble had never happened.

"Don't be so _bitter_, mon cheri~! Now that we're going to be living under the same roof you'll get to be graced by my presence _daily_." The man snickered as he ruffled the angel's already unruly hair.

Alfred could feel the hatred emanating off of Arthur's body.

It was then that Alfred realized that this wasn't one of his _smartest_ ideas.

----

Arthur had been sexually harassed **twenty three times** in the very **first** hour of Francis' arrival. He was so sick and disgusted by the man already.

In fact, he was _so_ disgusted that he had locked himself away in Alfred's room, promising not to move until the man left. This did not make it any easier on Alfred. But then again, now that Arthur was far, far away from Francis, he wouldn't have to constantly worry every time the man touched the angel. After all, with one wrong movement, Francis could've easily felt Arthur's wing. Maybe it was a _good_ thing that Arthur had locked himself away. That way Francis wouldn't find out the truth.

Francis was now sitting in across from Alfred, concentrating on a gigantic pile of wanted ads and application files.

Alfred was doing the same, nodding at the jobs he seemed interested in and frowning at the perverted jobs Francis suggested. It was then that Francis complained that Alfred was just_ too_ picky.

"You know, it's going to take _quite_ the job to pay for this lovely house." Francis said, undoubtedly stating the obvious.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "If I didn't know that already, you wouldn't be here and I'd be working at some burger joint."

Francis frowned and sipped his tea in a passive aggressive manner.

The blue eyed man sighed exasperatedly.

"If you don't mind me asking, Alfred, who exactly is that lovely chaton that greeted me at the door?" Francis questioned nonchalantly, sifting through more paperwork.

Alfred froze. He hadn't even thought of an excuse yet. He also knew by pausing for such along time to answer Francis was getting suspicious.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

"He's just a friend who needed a place to chill for a li'l while. He's in a bit of a money bind like me."

Francis eyed the other blond skeptically. "So, you're sheltering that boy, just out of hospitality? Is that correct?"

"Yup," was the only thing Alfred could muster up in reply. He kept his eyes glued to the forms as if they were the most interesting things he had ever read and prayed that Francis wouldn't bring it up again.

And he didn't.

For now that is.

* * *

A/N: Bwahaha, oh Francis. I love you. As a plot device that is. :3 Read and Review, please? I'll let you hug Mattie. :D Thank you for everyone who has been reading this and commenting on it so far. :)


	7. Human

**A/N: I just wanted to say a quick thank you for everyone who's been putting my story on their story alert and reviewing. Thank you guys so much. :) You guys help me finish writing these chapters and I'll do my best to start uploading a chapter everyday. It's sort of difficult though, seeing as how I have art projects and sports. But, whatever, you guys are first priority. :) **

**And here comes Chapter 7 :D**

* * *

Once Arthur assumed the coast was clear he unlocked Alfred's bedroom door. He looked to his left, then to his right, and dashed down the hall to the guest room. The angel smirked to himself, happy that he was in the clear.

Francis was _nowhere_ in sight.

With a happy sigh the angel plopped on the guest bed. It was nice to be able to relax. He curled on his side, his back facing the wall as a precaution. Seeing as how Matthew had gotten home just an hour ago, Arthur guessed that Francis and Alfred would have their hands full with him.

A nap seemed in order. And right now seemed like the _perfect_ time, Arthur thought as his eyelids grew heavier. It didn't take long before the angel was out cold.

This little nap turned into a deep slumber. When Arthur opened his eyes, he quickly registered that it was already dark outside. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his temple. He had a throbbing headache.

There was a giggle to his left. The angel went rigid, and jerked his head to find someone lying beside him in his bed.

Francis. _Naked_. In _his_ bed.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing in _my_ bed, you wanker!?" Arthur screamed, hitting the man repeatedly. "Put some clothes on! Have you _no_ decency?!"

The naked blond only grinned, covering himself with the blankets.

_Remember to get fresh sheets from Alfred_, Arthur reminded himself as he glowered at the perverted man.

"Why, mon cheri, you shouldn't be _so_ angry all the time. It isn't becoming of you. You were purring underneath me only a little while ago, why must you play hard to get?" Francis snickered.

Arthur blushed furiously, only hitting the man harder. "I was asleep! And there is no way I would bleeding do that with you! Of all people!"

"Oh, little naïve chaton. You think you were _dreaming_ because I fulfilled all of your fantasies, of course!"

"Get out!"

"What the _fuck_ are you guys arguing about now?! It's fucking two in the _morning _for Christ's sake!" Alfred roared as he slammed open the door. It was bad enough that he had to wake up in four hours, but now he would have to deal with these two's constant bickering.

Alfred's eyes quickly locked onto Francis. "You. Downstairs. _Now_. You're not allowed in this room from now on." The exhausted man moved his gaze to Arthur once the unwanted curly blond made his way to the living room.

"You guys are lucky Mattie's a heavy sleeper." Alfred ran his hand down his face in an attempt to stay awake. Arthur fiddled with his fingers.

"I don't want to stay here…with that_ man_." Arthur managed to whisper. He knew he shouldn't complain. After all, he was lucky to have been taken in to begin with. "I can't stand him."

The blue eyed man sighed, walking inside the room to stand in front of the angel who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry," was the only thing he could say. Francis _had_ to stay here. If Francis _didn't_ stay, he and Matthew would lose the house and have to stay in some crappy apartment, or live on the streets.

He kneeled on the floor in front of Arthur, trying to look the creature in the eyes. "Please try to understand that we need this money. I know ya don't like Francis, hell, I can barely put up with him sometimes." He chuckled, and patted Arthur's shoulder. "I know he's not the greatest person, but he's doin' his best to help me out. I mean, he's payin' rent here and still payin' his house, too. That takes a _rea_l friend, Arthur."

Arthur glanced up to be met with Alfred's pleading stare. "Please, he won't be stayin' long. And I don't want ya to leave…'til your wing heals."

The angel laid his head on the man's shoulder and gave a sigh of his own. Alfred did his best to ignore his heart that was threatening to rip through his chest. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man's shoulders.

"…fine."

The blue eyed man beamed with happiness, giving Arthur a gentle squeeze.

As Alfred was about to thank the Brit for being so awesome and understanding when he realized how _close_ they really were. It seemed that Arthur had realized the same exact thing.

"Alfred," Arthur began, starting to push him away half-heartedly. He couldn't even pretend to stop him.

The human leaned down and captured the green eyed angel's lips in a kiss. They melted together, almost forgetting that there was a child in the room next door and a perverted blond downstairs. Arthur had wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist tentatively, his lips being crushed by the other's. The angel could feel Alfred's fingers tangle in his hair. It was at this that Arthur had lost the battle he had been fighting against himself.

He liked Alfred. _More_ than he _should._

Of course, these moments were _never_ as perfect as you wished they would be, seeing as how a certain Frenchman was peering through the open space in the doorway, taking pictures on his phone. _Proof. Blackmail to get Alfred later, _Francis giggled quietly to himself as he walked down the stairs as silent as possible.

"Just a _friend_, huh? We'll see about that in the morning Alfred Jones," Francis whispered as he sat back down on the couch, a smug grin on his face.

It was after this that the two had finally pulled apart. Their breathing seemed to synchronize together in their silence. Blue eyes just stared into pools of green, neither knowing exactly what to say after that.

"W-Well…uhm," Alfred started, hesitantly letting Arthur go, "…g-good night."

Arthur let Alfred go as well, staring at the floor. "A-Ah, good night to you as well." He said shakily, rolling back into bed as a bright red color filled his cheeks.

The blue eyed man nodded and closed the door as Arthur turned over on his back to gaze up at the ceiling. He covered his face with his hand in embarrassment.

"God, save the Queen."

----

Alfred found himself at the kitchen table two hours later, chugging down his third cup of coffee.

"Stupid, stupid," he scolded himself, using the palm of his hand to cover his face, pretending as if he was hiding away from his shame.

He couldn't sleep after what had happened in the guest room. The kiss kept replaying in his over and over his mind. The way Arthur seemed to fit _perfectly_ there in his arms, the way their hearts seemed to beat as one during that moment; it just all felt so perfect. And the realization of this only killed Alfred inside even _more_.

"What seems to be the matter, mon ami? Something troubling you?" Alfred heard Francis ask from the doorway. His voice was thick with sarcasm.

The blue eyed man rolled his eyes and rose up from his chair to put the coffee mug in the sink.

Francis followed.

"So, I've been simply _dying_ to ask you, is that chaton single?" Francis grinned, strolling around the kitchen. "I mean, even if he isn't, that won't _stop_ me or anything. But still."

Alfred kept his eyes glued to the dishes in the sink. "He's not lookin' for somethin' like that. I think he might like somebody, I dunno who though. I don't like to pry into his personal life."

The curly blond cocked a brow. "Hm."

"How long is he staying?"

Alfred swallowed thickly. "However long he needs to," the golden blond shrugged, running his hands over the dishes as he scrubbed them clean.

_Please, tell me that door wasn't open last night. God, oh God, send me out a lifeline here! _

"Is there, maybe, a reason why your door is so widely open for Arthur?" Francis persisted, leaning his back against the sink's border, phone in his hands.

"He's a friend. I think that's all the reason. You know how I am, I love to help those in need."

"Ah, but perhaps it is you, mon ami, who needs Arthur more than the little green eyed chaton needs you." The curly blond smirked, flipping the screen of his phone open to show the countless pictures of Alfred and Arthur's last encounter. Nobody could keep secrets from Francis, not even Alfred.

Staring at the evident proof, Alfred's body began to tremble with anger. The plate he was rinsing dropped from his hand and clattered in the sink. He was lucky it didn't break.

"Who is this boy, Alfred? How did he just pop out of nowhere?"

"I-I don't know! I only know his name, alright?! I don't want to talk about this right now!" He quickly squeezed his eyes shut, tremors ripping through his body as he leaned over the sink.

Francis scowled and stood his ground. "If you only know his name then why were you kissing him so tenderly? I know this isn't normal behavior for someone like you, Alfred."

"I-I told you I don't know! I guess I was just vulnerable! I've been feeling useless ever since I lost my job, and the fact that Matthew and now Arthur depend on me, it makes me feel wanted! I couldn't help myself! I didn't even know I was that way to begin with!" Alfred clawed at the sink's border, trying to not believe his own words. But it was true. He loved that Arthur was dependent on him. That Matthew was dependent on him. He felt needed. Like a hero. He shuddered and shook his head. "I've been going insane ever since I lost my job! You don't understand! You don't understand any of what I'm feeling right now. Nothing!"

"You lost your job?"

Alfred and Arthur jerked their heads in the direction of the voice. Their eyes found Matthew who was standing at the staircase his backpack in his arms.

The blue eyed man felt his throat go dry and stared at the child, staggering towards him.

"M-Mattie, I—"

"Alfred, why didn't you tell me?"

He faltered.

"I…I didn't want to disappoint you…Mattie, I swear, I'm going to job interviews today! Just give me some time and I—"

The little curly blond only shook his head and shoved past the taller man, slamming the door as he left.

He felt like a superhero that had just been drained of all his powers. He was useless. Defeated. And there was nothing he could do to make it right.

Alfred was only human.


	8. Revelations

The door was shut. Then locked. It honestly didn't help either way seeing as how Francis had a key.

Alfred F. Jones had his face in his hands. _Sulking_. Something no hero would ever do. He was pitiful. Disgusting. Weak.

"Good morning," greeted a soft voice from the staircase. Alfred kept his face in his hands as the angel walked over to the exhausted and dejected blond. He tapped the other's shoulder guessing that the man had just fallen asleep.

The former hero peeked up from his hands and forced a smile, grateful that his eyes weren't too red. "Ah, G'morning. Francis and Mattie already left."

The British angel smiled and sat beside the blond. His heart was pounding frantically, still thinking about the night before.

"Alfred, is something the matter?"

"M'fine! Just sleepy from last night…"

Frowning, Arthur brushed the human's blond locks out of his eyes, and stared into the blue orbs as if the secret to his strange behavior would be hidden behind them. "You don't _seem_ bloody fine. I'm sorry we kept you up last night with our bickering…"

"It's fine, it's fine," Alfred flushed and moved Arthur's hand away from his face and placed it in his lap, intertwining their fingers—which by now was _almost_, completely normal to the both of them. "You're walking a lot better now. Can I check on your wing?"

The green eyed angel beamed and stood up carefully as he raised the back of his shirt to show the human. Alfred carefully peeled the tape off of the wing and pale skin. He forced a grin when Arthur spread out his wings with ease.

Alfred was going to lose _another_ person he cared about in only a matter of days.

If Arthur wasn't there he was pretty damn sure he would've choked out a sob. Instead, he put on his usual, lucky-go-happy act.

"That's amazing, Arthur!"

The Brit flushed as he peered over at the man. He could feel that something was wrong. So very wrong. The atmosphere was just so stifling.

"Arthur?"

"…hm?"

Alfred smiled weakly as he grabbed a hold of the angel's hand again. "Can we sit outside for a while? I need some fresh air. And it'll be nice to relax before I got to my other job interviews."

Arthur nodded as felt himself being pulled into the backyard. It was still lush and green from last night's rain. The blue eyed man led the angel to a bench that nestled in the shade.

He sat down, watching as the awkward creature took a seat beside him. The blond smiled politely before gazing out at the brilliant blue sky. Arthur noted that the color of Alfred's eyes were usually so beautiful that the sky couldn't even compare. But right now, they seemed so dull.

_What's wrong with you?_

"There's not a cloud in sight…" he finally whispered, breaking the thick silence that had fallen upon them. Arthur nodded in reply, giving the tanned hand a gentle squeeze.

_What happened?_

The American man smiled down at the worried green eyes. Yet, it wasn't the smile Arthur loved to see. It was broken and tired. It didn't reach up to his eyes. And it scared the angel.

Alfred pulled the green eyed man closer and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, gazing up at the sky. This was the closest he was going to get to heaven. The blond squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in this moment as Arthur reluctantly gave in to his hold.

"Hey, Arthur."

The angel glanced up at the man and nodded for him to go on before closing his eyes again.

"In heaven, will you promise to watch over us?"

Arthur stopped breathing. He finally realized why Alfred was acting so odd. The angel nodded once more, hoping his body was trembling.

"I bet it's _really_ nice up there, yeah? Always sunny, soft clouds, roads paved out of gold, and all the people you love all together again," Alfred mused in what Arthur guessed was supposed to be an excited tone. It sounded nearly dead in his ears. "And then _flying_. It must be amazing to see the whole world underneath you. To feel the wind in your face and through your hair…it sounds…_awesome_."

The angel peered over his shoulder, noticing a wet shimmer in Alfred's eyes. He turned away and let the man's hand go.

"You'll be late to your interviews."

Alfred mumbled a quiet, "Yeah", and let go of him, heading inside. Arthur gazed up at the sky with what could only be described as a mixture of longing and hatred in his eyes.

After cursing under his breath, Arthur finally eased himself off of the bench and walked inside. The man was already gone.

Staring at the door, the angel subconsciously wished for him to come back.

But he didn't.

The green eyed creature wandered around the Jones' house aimlessly, trying to memorize every nook and cranny. After an hour or so he found himself in Alfred's room. So, he climbed in the bed and lost himself in the oversized covers. Alfred's scent lingered in the sheets and the pillows. Arthur closed his eyes. Even then, the blue eyed man was _all_ he could see.

Everything was slipping away. He would have to go home. He would have to be alone. Again. It had all just started to feel like home.

He was in love. And he couldn't take it anymore.

Arthur Kirkland then hung his head and cried.

---

The bus ride home was _terrible_.

Apparently he had just picked the worst possible seat on the entire vehicle. He was the meat in an idiot sandwich: an overly energetic Italian—who most likely had some attention deficit disorder in front, and quite annoying Korean who kept claiming he invented everything, sitting behind him.

Oh, Matthew was definitely not happy with this turn of events. To put the cherry on top, the Italian was now asking him millions of questions every minute, only distracted whenever he saw a dog, or something concerning pasta. He grumbled under his breath and did his best to smile politely, trying to block him out. Luckily, he was let off the hook with a small Japanese boy became the new target to his bombardment of questions.

The curly haired blond sighed and removed his glasses, staring intently at them.

He didn't _mean_ to get mad at his brother. He knew that Alfred tried so hard to be a good role model and would do anything for him.

But he felt like he was being treated like a child. A child who didn't understand anything or a child who was too young and oblivious to the world. But, little did his brother know, he was very smart. He had common sense.

For one, he _knew_ that his brother and Arthur were in love, even if they were too idiotic and stubborn to figure it out for themselves.

Two, he knew that Francis wouldn't just move in for the hell of it. Oh no, he _knew_ something was wrong.

But he just wished that his brother would stop belittling him. He wished that his brother could realize that he wasn't some kid. Matthew wanted to be the person his brother could turn to and tell him something's wrong. But then again, he also knew that Alfred was trying to give him the best of everything. To have him live in a perfect world where nothing would ever go wrong because the hero was taking care of him.

Matthew frowned. He knew life wasn't perfect _either_.

As the bus finally parked in front of his house, he made his way out. He couldn't stay mad at his brother. So, he was going to smile and tell him he loved him whether he had a job or not, because Alfred was still a hero to Matthew either way.

----

Alfred dragged himself into the house; his heart slightly lightened seeing as how he had three good interviews today.

Matthew greeted him at the door with a hug and a bright smile.

"Alfred, I'm sorry I was mad at you earlier."

The blue eyed man stiffened, obviously not expecting this apology. A smile spread across his lips and he wrapped his arms around his brother.

"No, Mattie. I'm sorry for not telling you. I'm not a hero. I couldn't even keep my _job_."

At this the smaller boy shook his head. "You're only human, Alfred. It's okay."

He stared down at his brother and fought back tears.

"You're a hero to _me_, Alfred. That's all that matters," Matthew grinned and took the blond's hand, leading him into the kitchen where Arthur and Francis were sitting. "C'mon, Uncle Francis brought some more want ads and applications. Let me help you this time."

Francis chuckled and motioned for Alfred to sit down between him and Arthur, who also was wearing a smile. It was weak and fragile, but a smile nonetheless.

Alfred wiped his face with his sleeve and gave a hearty laugh.

"All right, let's get this over with."

The house had never seemed so full of life.


	9. God

**A/N: Hah, well so far so good. Here's the newest chapter to Rehabilitation. Thank you, everybody for being so supportive! :3 Also, I'm sorry if there are some spelling/gramatical errors, or if this was just poor quality. ): This was written at one in the morning and I haven't slept for two days. There is also a Kamikaze Kaito Jeanne quote hidden in here, Pfft, hope nobody notices. x) Oh well! Enjoy!**

* * *

Arthur found Alfred, Francis and Matthew asleep on the sofa the next morning.

The curly little blond was sprawled across the two older men's laps. The Frenchman was snoring, _quite_ loudly, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. The American had his head back, almost drooling. In his hand was a coffee cup, half full.

He couldn't help but smile. It was _definitely_ a sight to see.

Deciding against waking them up he poured himself a bowl of cereal, waiting for the three to get up themselves.

Matthew was first. He rolled off the couch and drowsily wandered over to the table.

"Can I have some cereal?" The blond yawned and rubbed his eyes before taking a seat beside the angel.

Arthur smiled and poured him a bowl. Luckily—_for once_—he didn't mess up. The purple eyed boy groggily dined in, a little upset that his bus would being arriving soon.

It was a little while after that a particular American dragged himself in. He was muttering under his breath about how there were _too_ many forms to be signed. Arthur also heard the blue eyed man constantly repeating addresses and phone numbers as well. But he looked better than he had last night. There was color in his face and his eyes were returning to their natural brilliant shade. It made the Brit smile with relief.

The three sat in silence. After awhile, Matthew—who couldn't handle the growing tension—rose up from his chair and dashed upstairs to change and get ready for school. This left the angel _alone_ with Alfred.

"We're all goin' to be out today, I'm sorry we have to leave ya alone so often."

Arthur's raised his eyes from his bowl of soggy cereal. "That's alright. I feel quite knackered anyways."

Alfred rested his elbow on the table, tugging on his golden hair as he kept his eyes on the angel. He didn't _want_ to leave. He wanted to apologize for the way he acted yesterday. It was _completely_ out of line, and he wasn't even fully aware of what he was saying. He had let his emotions get the better of him.

But _today_ he would make up for it.

It was then that Matthew had returned from his room. He chastely hugged the blue and green eyed men before making his way to the living room to give Francis a hug as well. He then headed out the door.

"Ah, good morning mon amour~." Francis greeted cheerfully as he also ambled into the kitchen. He gave a smile, but even the Frenchman could feel the awkward air in the room. The curly blond played it off and walked over to the sandy haired angel, placing a kiss on his hand. He pretended not to hear the growl coming from Alfred who sitting across from them.

"Alfred, we should get going. The first interview is in an hour."

Rising from his chair he gave a nod, and Francis wandered back into the living room. Arthur averted his eyes from the taller man. He still didn't know how to feel after everything that had happened in this week. It passed by _too_ fast for him to even grasp a hold onto anything. And soon, he was going to be leaving.

He leaned over and ruffled the creature's soft hair, waiting patiently for Arthur to look up at him. But he couldn't. So, after heaving a gentle sigh, Alfred planted a kiss on the angel's head. "I'll see ya later," was all he said as he joined Francis at the door.

Arthur watched from the kitchen as the two men waved good-bye and leave.

He was alone. He reminded himself that he would have to get used to this feeling again.

----

The green eyed angel hadn't moved from Alfred's bed for hours. He couldn't even remember what time it was when he had laid down to begin with. His body was aching, his head throbbing, and there was a hole right in the center of his heart. Arthur couldn't remember _ever_ having such a terrible feeling before.

All he knew was that it had to be sometime in the afternoon because Matthew had just arrived home not too long ago. The young boy had walked into the room when Arthur had been staring at the ceiling and asked him if he was alright. He nodded and shooed his back downstairs, reassuring him that he was just tired.

He was out of words. The creature couldn't even _pretend_ to be happy.

Why would God do this to him? Why would God make him fall from heaven and not let him stay? It wasn't _fair_. It definitely was not fair at all.

There was always fate. Fate would be to blame in this sort of predicament. Arthur was destined to fall from the sky and meet this family. He had always been alone; in life and death. But this just wasn't right.

In that bed, Arthur prayed and prayed that _somehow, someway_ he could stay. That for some reason, God would smile down at him for once in his life and let him be happy, but, he knew this was _impossible_.

He had learned by watching from heaven that God could only do _three_ things: create life, watch over that life, and turn his breath into wind.

His efforts were meaningless.

At this revelation, the green eyed angel placed his head down on a pillow and willed himself to get to sleep. But even in his dreams, Arthur could not escape the harsh reality.

---

Francis was abruptly woken up by a pair of hands pounding on the car's passenger side window. Opening his eyes he found Alfred, out of breath and demanding him to roll the window down.

"What is your _problem_? You could've just opened the door and talked to me like a normal person would," the curly blond man frowned, rubbing his forehead

Alfred was gasping and panting, unable to catch his breath so he simply shoved a handbook in the Frenchman's face. He only stared blankly at it.

"And?"

The blue eyed man groaned and stomped over to the driver's side, opened his door and slid inside the car. "I-I got the job! They hired me right away and I start next week!"

At this Francis chuckled, rolling his window back up. "The fact that they would even hire an _imbécile_ like you is a mystery within itself."

"Hey! What's that supposed ta mean?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, mon ami."

The curly blond man then received a jab in the ribs and a smile.

----

Arthur woke up later to a blood red sky. His eyes were red and his heart was heavy. He guessed he had been asleep for a good four to five hours.

There was a shift of weight on the bed. Apparently he wasn't alone.

"Ah," the man beside him smiled kindly. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just got home."

_Alfred._

The green eyed angel shook his head and stared up at the weary man. Other than Alfred's finger's running over Arthur's cheek occasionally, neither moved from their spots. They only stared in silence.

"Francis just left for home. I got hired, Arthur. I have a job now."

Arthur smiled.

"So, do you like my bed or somethin'? I mean, your bed is _just_ across the hall. Did you _miss_ me? Is that what it is?"

Arthur blushed.

The American laughed and laid down beside the angel. Matthew was already in bed asleep, so he figured he might as well.

Without much hesitation he pulled Arthur into his arms, and made himself comfortable. Arthur didn't have much say in the matter seeing as how he couldn't fight the stronger man's hold. He ended up right on top of Alfred.

"…let go of me, you git."

Alfred smiled and wrapped his arms around the angel's slender waist.

"Alfred, let me go!" Arthur begged, his face a crimson red as he stared down into Alfred's boundless blue eyes.

"Please, just stay with me tonight. Just tonight."

_Why are you doing this to me?_

"I don't understand you at all."

Alfred chuckled, causing his chest to rumble underneath Arthur. "Good. I like to be the suave and mysterious type."

The angel frowned, obviously embarrassed as he buried his face into Alfred's chest.

"Do you…Do ya really have to leave? Y'know, after your wing heals and all…" Arthur heard Alfred ask in a soft voice as he played with the folds on the man's shirt.

"Yes, I do."

"But…why?" Alfred asked, his bright blue eyes burning through the darkness of the room. Even in the pitch black Arthur could see them. The creature sighed, gripping onto Alfred's shirt tightly.

"I'm not human. I can't just stay here. I don't belong here, Alfred." Arthur said, lifting his head to gaze directly into the man's eyes. "You and I both know that. No matter how much I pretend, I'm not human."

Alfred replied by kissing the angel firmly, angrily. "I don't care if you're not human," he growled. "Neither does Matthew. And that's all that matters. Isn't it?"

Arthur remained quiet.

"Isn't it?" Alfred questioned, his heart longing for it to be so.

_I'm so sorry._ Arthur could feel his stomach twist in pain, hearing the agony in Alfred's voice.

"Arthur, please don't go. Tell me you'll stay."

Arthur had never felt so terrible in his entire life. Reaching out in the dark he took Alfred's face in his hands. His cheeks were wet. The angel hadn't even heard him start crying. Arthur slid fingertips along Alfred's face, hoping to calm him down.

"W-Why can't I b-be enough for you?" Alfred choked through his tears. Even while crying, Alfred's voice was demanding and strong.

Kissing the human's face, the angel began to cry also. "If I had the choice, I would never leave either of you."

_It's always have and never hold for me. It's not fair. You had just started to feel like home._

"T-Then stay, please, Arthur." Alfred placed his hand on top of Arthur's and kissed the crying angel compassionately.

_God, please. Hear me out._

The creature continued to cry, kissing the man back clumsily.

_I've fallen in love, and I want to be happy._

"You were made to be a part of this family, Arthur Kirkland."

The green eyed angel wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Fate was such a cruel thing. But time was even worse.

"Stay with me. Stay with us."

_God, I'm in love._

"Forever."

_Why won't you let me be happy?_


	10. The sky

**A/N: I promise you, this is going to be the only chapter that is this short. ;; Sorry, I wasn't trying to be lazy or anything, it just seemed like the appropriate place to cut it off for now. **

* * *

Neither of them had slept for hours. The pair laid beside one another, staring, hoping time would stand still so they could selfishly stay in love forever. It was still dark outside, so they still had some time on their hands.

They could only fight off sleep for so long. The angel started to feel his eyelids get heavier.

"Arthur…Arthur, don't fall asleep yet. _Please_."

He struggled to keep his eyes open, but managed to do so for awhile longer.

"We can't just stay up all night. Running away from time _isn't_ going to stop me from leaving," the green eyed angel mumbled softly, his voice weary as Alfred brushed his fingertips along the creature's cheek.

It was only a few hours until Arthur would leave him. They had planned for him to depart at early in the morning so nobody would spot him. The two had also promised not to wake Matthew for it either.

Alfred stayed silent at cruel reality of it all.

"I love you, Arthur."

"…I _know_. You already told me."

The angel held the human's face between his hands and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. This was Alfred's signal to stay quiet, so he complied and gazed into the green eyed he adored. Everything was _slipping_ through his hands. He could feel his heart being ripped apart as they watched each other in silence.

Just from each other's stares they knew more than enough. Only one more hour and Arthur would be gone. It would be like he had never even existed. The only proof Alfred would have would be a broken heart.

Alfred smiled thoughtfully at the green eyed angel, and the creature did so in return. There were no words to say. The blond pulled the other closer, tight against his chest letting their forehead press together as he leaned down.

Bitter was the kiss that said goodbye.

----

"So how does this work? Do you just take off, or do you need a running start?" Alfred joked wryly, doing his best to smile and laugh for Arthur as they drove down the roads on the outskirts of town.

"Well, I haven't flown in a long time," the other sighed, peering over his shoulder and the pristine white wings on his back. "But I'll tell you when we're going fast enough."

The American nodded. He had one hand on the wheel and the other holding onto Arthur's. This was it. Arthur was going back and he couldn't stop him now.

Speeding down the country road he felt Arthur's hand tighten around his. It was time, he knew it. They both shared a glance as the wind blew harshly against their faces.

This was the _end_.

Using his knees to steer the car, he hoisted Arthur up into the air. He watched in awe as two large wings unfolded above him, snow white and absolutely breathtaking. Alfred returned one hand to the steering wheel and kept his hold on Arthur's small hand.

"Thank you, Alfred. For _everything_."

Arthur smiled down at the man he grown to love and began to release his hand. He could feel the tanned fingers struggle to hold on, and he only shook his head."

"Goodbye."

Letting go, Arthur soared up high into the red-orange sky. Alfred parked his car on the side of the road to watch his angel fly away.

"Arthur! I meant what I said!" The American began to shout up above him, his hands trembling. "I love you! I'll love you even after my dying day!

With a smile Arthur Kirkland disappeared into the clouds, completely out of sight.

Even then, Alfred found himself staring up at the heavens for hours, waiting, hoping and praying for his love to return.

But of course, he never did.

Somewhere along the time he was waiting the sky had turned gray. As the rain began to pour down the blond man got into his car and drove back home. He'd have to think of some excuse for Matthew when he returned. That in itself _wasn't_ going to be an easy task.

Even on the way back, Alfred found himself staring up to the skies.

It never stopped raining that day.


	11. Big Brother

**A/N: GUH. Sorry guys, I was supposed to post this last night but I never got online. Well, here is chapter eleven. Twelve is being typed up as you read! :)**

**Translation: **bien-aimé - sweetheart, darling. [If wrong then blame microsoft word. :P]

* * *

It had been one week since Arthur left.

We were brought back to the beginning—back to the way things were before Arthur had stepped into our lives. But ever since big brother had started his new job we rarely saw much of each other.

I was scared for him. I mean, he did nothing but work. If he wasn't at work, he was either on the phone talking to his boss or customers, or clacking away on that laptop of his. I was very lonely. Especially now that Arthur was gone. I never had many friends to begin with—I mean, I'm practically invisible at school—but with Arthur, I thought it was all going to change. I had one friend to finally call my own.

And now he was _gone_.

I feel terrible. But I can only imagine how my big brother feels.

My big brother tends to stay out of the kitchen at every chance he gets. So he hardly ever eats anymore. He always kept himself busy and never slept in his own bed and he also refused to sit on the couch. Big brother would just sleep on the floor. Sometimes he would even sleep in my bed. I never thought it would hurt him this badly.

He looked like a shell of who he used to be. It _terrified_ me.

"Have a good day at school, Mattie."

Big brother was sitting on the floor again. I told him so many times to sit on the couch be he would just shake his head and smile, saying he was fine where he was. That had to have been his tenth coffee cup since he had woken up.

"'Kay," I mumbled as I headed for the door. I didn't want to see him this way.

We never spoke as much as we used to. Whenever I tried to start a conversation he would stare at me blankly, give me one worded answers, or simply say he needed to go to sleep. It aggravated me, and scared me at the same time. My big brother was supposed to be the overly happy one, he was supposed to laugh loudly, so smile so big that it made my cheeks hurt from looking at it. He wasn't supposed to be empty.

It _killed_ me inside.

But I understood why. I wasn't stupid; after all, Arthur had been gone for one whole week. My big brother was in love with Arthur. And even though I was still upset that he had seen Arthur off without me, I let it go. Big brother had more of a right than I did. Even if I was the one who found Arthur in the first place.

I could never stay too mad about it. But just because I wasn't mad didn't mean that I didn't think about it at all. School was just _awful_.

Concentrating on my work was impossible. I found myself worrying how Alfred was. If I left him alone for too long he would probably drink so much coffee he would have a heart attack.

But he wasn't _suicidal_ or anything. Big brother just never seemed to notice how many cups of coffee he kept drinking anymore. He never stopped. Whenever I finally worked up the courage to tell him to stop he would only go to the fridge and grab some sort of energy drink, sometimes maybe even a beer.

I found my self constantly thinking about our situation. This caused my mind to wonder off school work—which led to failing.

Not only did I have to worry about my older brother's will to live; now _school_ was becoming a problem. I did my best! Believe me, I did! But it was just so hard, especially with my class being as troublesome as ever. If school supplies weren't being thrown around, people were fighting constantly—either hand to hand or just verbally. It was just _silly_. We're only twelve, what class fights as much as we do?

Then again, with the sort of people that made up our class—an eccentric Italian, the loudmouth, crybaby Italian's older twin brother, the often silent Japanese boy who agreed with whatever anyone had to say, the Korean who was still shouting about how he invented everything, a girl from Seychelles who some how managed to pull a large fish out of nowhere all the time, a boy who said he was from Prussia and repeatedly exclaimed that he was very awesome, an Austrian boy who was constantly bothered by a Hungarian girl who kept trying to make the boys wear dresses, a Swede boy and a Finnish boy who never left each other's sights, a Spaniard who was always eating tomatoes and flirting with the older Italian brother, the Lithuanian boy who's Polish friend insisted on wearing girl's clothes to school, the Russian boy that sat in the back row with an aura that made everyone scoot their desks forward, creating a huge gap, and the girl from Belarus who wanted to marry the Russian—it was easy to see how fights could start.

I did my best just to stay out of the line of fire, often staring out the window and thinking of home. Supposedly, the teacher said I was one of the best students, but that was just because I was quiet and I _never_ got into any fights. So he was quite surprised when my grades started to drop.

He even kept me after school to talk about it.

I was scared to talk with him alone. My teacher is a _very_ big man, mind you. He often claims that he is the Italians' grandfather. Which wasn't that weird, they did look a little similar, I guessed.

"Matthew, this is the fifth D you've gotten this week." I had never realized how his big stature contradicted his calm tone.

"…I'm sorry," I apologized. I think by this time I was already shaking. I always got scared whenever I talked to him, I just kept saying sorry.

Wanting to just go home to check on my big brother I waited for my teacher to finish scolding me. But by the time I tuned in to what he was saying, he was on a tangent about something completely different.

"E-Excuse me, I have to take the bus home, I don't want to miss it."

After realizing that he had gone completely off topic, my teacher glanced down at me and frowned. He had heard the anxiety in my voice, I suppose, because he asked, "Is there something going on at home? Parent's mistreating you? Abusing you?"

I shook my head. I thought he would have already known that I just lived with Alfred by now. It was almost already half way through the semester.

"I live with my big brother. A-Anyways, I need to get going. The bus is coming," I pointed to the bus stop and began to walk in its direction.

"Remember to study!"

---

When I got home I was too late. My big brother was collapsed on the floor, two empty coffee cups and a beer beside him. I figured if I were to get there a little earlier I could've convinced him to at least drink a cup of water.

Sure, any _normal_ kid who came home to see their family member passed out on the floor should be shocked. But not me, at least, not anymore. Alfred had started doing this a few days after Arthur had left. I was used to it unfortunately.

I walked upstairs to grab him a blanket. It was the least I could do for now. After I covered him I went to the kitchen to heat up the pizza we had last night. I didn't know how to make much of anything so I supposed that was the best choice for now. I warmed up a slice for Alfred. I knew he would just peck at it, but it was better than nothing.

"Alfred, wake up." I nudged him.

Nothing.

"Alfred, wake up, I got you a slice of pizza." I nudged him again. He groaned. At least he was still alive.

Leaving the plate beside him I dug in my pocket for a small sheet of paper. I was told whenever I needed help with something, anything, to call the number on this paper. And I definitely needed help with this mess. I can't take care of a grown man by myself. A twelve year old can only do so much.

I waited for the phone to ring and when he finally answered I didn't give him a chance to speak.

"Uncle Francis, can you please come check on Alfred? He doesn't look so good."

I couldn't even hear anything the man said. My head was throbbing, I couldn't concentrate. All I remember was that he had said something that sounded like, "I'll be right over."

At least, that's what I hope it sounded like.

----

Big brother finally woke up. He said that he was having chest pains and he just blacked out. Uncle Francis scolded him and told me to hide all of the coffee in the house. Alfred didn't like that idea very much. I didn't want to know what was going on. I just sat in a silence, pretending not to understand what was happening. I held my brother's hand as he laid on the couch. Uncle Francis had told him he needed to rest because working all day and only getting one hour of sleep wasn't healthy.

I agreed.

"I'm sorry, Mattie." I heard my big brother say, his voice was raspy and it sounded painful just to hear. "We'll go to a movie or something fun tomorrow, okay? I _promise_."

I could only give him a small, half-hearted smile. I knew it wasn't going to happen, but I told him I was looking forward to it anyway. He always tried too hard to make me happy. It was my turn to help him this time.

_I'd _be the hero.

"Do you want pizza, or something? I had heated you up a slice."

I could hear Uncle Francis in the background talking on the phone.

"Y-Yeah. That sounds great." My big brother gave his best smile, before closing his eyes again.

Depression was a _terrible_ thing to witness. Especially when it was happening to someone you loved. I couldn't bear to watch my brother spiral into insanity. Once I walked into the kitchen and I saw Uncle Francis hang up the phone.

"Is he going to be okay?" I tried to hide my apprehension as I grabbed the taller man's hand, tugging at it to get his attention.

Uncle Francis smiled down at me. "Oh, he just needs some anti-depressants. If things get worse, he probably might need some counseling. But he should be just fine," he assured me as he knelt down to be at my eye level.

He ruffled my hair. "Can you tell me, bien-aimé, when did Alfred start acting this way?"

"After Arthur left."

I watched a puzzled look flash in his eyes before he smiled again. "Well then, _why_ did the chaton leave?"

With a shrug of my shoulders, I pretended not to know the reason. That was something I figured my big brother didn't want Uncle Francis to know.

Before getting up from the ground I could feel the older blond's hand squeeze mine before planting a kiss on my head, letting go and walking towards the living room to check on Alfred.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about your brother, yes? We'll take good care of him. Before you know it, he'll be back to his usual self."

One could only _hope_.


	12. Mattie

**A/N: Ah, well here's chapter eleven in Alfred's view point. Enjoy! :) **

* * *

It had been one week since Arthur left.

I found myself having to start everything over. Arthur told me it would be a fresh start. A clean slate. Clean slate, my_ ass_. My life, my house, my heart—_everything_ was empty.

Work was the only thing that kept me sane. Constant phone calls and meetings, I never really had time to think about anything else. This was a very good thing, trust me. Even when I had just a few minutes to myself I started to think. Thinking often led me to Arthur. This then ended up in me falling _deeper_ into fucking insanity than I already was.

Every room in my house seems to remind me of him. The only place I think is a clear zone is Matthew's room. I sleep in there sometimes. I'm too afraid to sleep in my own bed. Just the fact that Arthur had laid in it, especially on the night before he left—there were just some things I needed to try not to remember.

I'm a _fucking_ mess.

I'm trying and trying to forget, but it's impossible. Some hero I am. The word impossible isn't even supposed to be in my dictionary.

I couldn't even _pretend_ to be normal. Matthew must be worried about me. I didn't want that to happen. I never thought that losing Arthur would make me go this far off the edge.

The days were nothing like they used to be. I kept my back turned to the table as I cooked breakfast everyday, said goodbye to Mattie, and then turned around, expecting Arthur to be sitting there. Like he used to.

This morning I couldn't even bear to walk into the goddamn kitchen. Now, what I normally do is sit on the living room floor. I can't sit on the couch. That's where Arthur and I used to sit all the time. It just seems like a sacred place that I'm not allowed to touch. Instead of breakfast I have a cup of coffee in my hands. I think it was my tenth cup, I'm not all that sure anymore. Even coffee doesn't help me anymore. _Shit_.

As Mattie walked downstairs I felt a sudden guilt overcome me. He was still a little bit touchy about how I didn't wake him up to see Arthur off. I just didn't want to put him through it. Neither did Arthur. Damnit, I was thinking of him again. I really needed to stop doing that.

Today was my day off of work. That didn't help that I was stuck at home. Well, I wasn't stuck really; more like I was so friggin' tired I didn't even want to get off the floor. The car was too far away from me but I needed to go for a ride. Just to forget for awhile. But then again, Arthur had been in the car the day he left.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck, _fuck_.

"Have a good day at school, Mattie," I managed to say after my downing the rest of whatever coffee I had in my cup. It was hard to talk to my own little brother. We used to be so close, but this…this feeling that was tearing about at my heart kept me away from other people. I closed myself away. But I didn't want to do that to Mattie. I was all he had. I promised myself that I would make it up to him soon for being a wreck.

"'Kay," I heard him say before shutting the door.

I _hated_ being alone in this house. This day was definitely not going to be awesome.

----

A few hours later I realized that I had done nothing but stare at a blank television screen. I didn't have the energy to get up, or eat, _fuck_; I barely had the energy to breathe.

I'm just pathetic.

With a groan I forced myself to get up off the floor. My shirt felt a little too loose on my body—which was weird seeing as how I had just bought it a few weeks ago. Then again, by barely eating and doing nothing but run around a ten story office building—losing weight is a given.

I was going to try and walk around the house. I needed to do something than just sit on the floor all day. I had to fucking do something.

Another cup of coffee seemed in order. I dragged myself over to the kitchen—which I still did not enjoy being in at all—and made myself make some coffee. At least I was being somewhat productive. I was honestly just glad that nobody had called me concerning work. Then again, if I wasn't working I was utterly useless.

As I walked into the kitchen I felt as if I was going to fall over. My muscles ached, and this sudden headache caught me off guard. I remember feeling as if I was suffocating. The air in this room was so heavy—I was surprised I wasn't gasping for air yet.

_Alfred._

I swore I heard it. I wasn't fucking dreaming. His voice was ringing in my ears, still fresh. Turning around I swear, he was there at the table. He was smiling.

_What's for breakfast, Alfred?_

My angel. My beautiful green eyed angel. He had come back.

I scrambled over the table to hold him in my arms. But when I got to the chair, he was gone. A hallucination. _Imaginary_.

Fuck. I really was going out of my mind. This is why I didn't like being in places Arthur always used to be—which was very hard seeing as how he had lived here for nearly a week. My memories screwed with my head.

Another hour had passed me by. I hadn't even realized that I was on my second cup of coffee. I didn't even bother to put the cups in the sink. They fell through my hands as I staggered back to the kitchen again. This time, to grab a beer.

I was being mentally _tormented_.

And I didn't know if I could handle it.

---

I don't remember what happened after that.

Only half way through the beer and I saw white flash before my eyes. There was this pain. Fucking _terrible_ pain. It sort of caught me off guard.

Next thing I knew, Matthew was beside me. I could smell slightly burnt pizza. Goddamn. It smelled_ horrible_. I tried to talk, but my head felt like it was going to burst into flames. I groaned instead.

I wanted to apologize. I was a fucking wreck, and no twelve year old should have to deal with their guardian acting this way. It was ridiculous. I wanted to apologize. To just hold him in my arms and tell him I was sorry for everything I was putting him through. I was supposed to protect him from everything.

I never thought I would have to protect him from _myself_.

After an hour or so of trying to get off the ground I heard the door open, and someone hauled me off the ground and put me on the couch.

Francis. Matthew had called _Francis_. Now, I knew I was definitely screwed.

"What happened, mon ami?"

My throat burned as I tried to speak. "Chest. Pain in my chest."

He raised a brow and had me lay down on the couch. My eyelids grew heavier as he started to get after me. I think I heard him say something about hiding my coffee. When I tried argue Francis nearly waved his finger in my face and walked into the kitchen to answer a phone call.

I turned to Matthew who had just come back from stashing away my coffee, I guessed. "I'm sorry, Mattie. We'll go to a movie or something fun tomorrow, okay? I _promise_."

My voice sounded disgusting. I couldn't help but wonder how I was able to speak in the first place. My throat was on _fire_. It felt raw.

He only smiled. And suddenly the guilt overcame me. I knew I would be in no condition to go anywhere but work tomorrow. Lying was wrong, but I had to at least put that sliver of hope back in Matthew's eyes. But I think I needed that hope more than he did.

"Do you want pizza, or something? I had heated up a slice."

If I had enough energy left in my body I would have held him. I would've said I was sorry for everything. But I couldn't even sit up.

"Y-Yeah. That sounds great," was all I could say before he walked back into the kitchen.

Once Matthew had gone off to bed, Francis sat beside me again. I opened my eyes, and I could see the stern look in his face. He wasn't happy. I could tell. But I wouldn't have been either if I was in his position.

"I'm sorr--"

He only held his hand up. I stayed quiet. It was probably better that way.

"The chaton left, so I see."

I cringed just at the mention of Arthur. Hoping he didn't notice I nodded, and avoided his stare.

Francis frowned. "And when did this pain in your chest start, mon ami?"

"After he left."

After burning a fucking _hole_ in my head Francis finally got off the couch and scribbled a phone number on a scrap sheet of paper he had in his pocket.

"I need you to call this number whenever you start to have chest pains, or any other kind of pain, yes? And if they do not answer, call me. You're going to be just fine, do not fret."

He left the piece of paper in my hand and smiled before heading for the door.

"You shall be yourself again in no time," he assured me before opening the door to leave.

One could only _hope_.


	13. Work

**A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long. :'( I just have a lot going on at the moment. Art projects, softball games, and now trying to record a single for my band. Guh, I'm sorry guys. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Things weren't exactly going _awesome_, Alfred had decided.

Work seemed to keep piling and piling up on his desk. He had only been off _one_ day. And is if that wasn't enough to get on his nerves, the clacking of the keyboards, the smell of coffee, the birds chirping, cars passing by outside, the annoying voices of his co-workers; it all made Alfred want to strangle himself.

He couldn't concentrate even if he wanted to. It was like being an ADD child in a toy store.

The American squirmed in his seat for hours trying to get his work done. Time felt like it was staggering along. Alfred found himself gazing outside the window every now and then.

It was getting dark already. But, it wasn't because it was late—much to Alfred's disappointment. Gray seemed to take over whatever blue hue of the sky was left over. His mind wandered to Arthur. _Again_. For the _third_ time in an hour.

That was his sign to get back to work.

There were days at work where he was restless, finishing everything way ahead of scheduled time. Then, there were days like today. He was indecisive, weary, and unable to concentrate because the writing on the paperwork kept fading in and out of his vision.

He was often asked if there was something wrong on these days. Alfred, who didn't want to jeopardize his new job, would simply plaster on a smile and say, "_M'fine!_" then go back to work.

That is, until his migraines kicked in. They always seemed to hit him here at work. In a sense, it was better that way. Matthew wouldn't have to be around him while he was in pain.

Alfred was interrupted in whatever work he was finally getting done when the phone in his pocket vibrated. Francis, again. Since last night the Frenchman hadn't stopped calling or texting him. It was precautionary.

He peered down at the screen, inconspicuously, of course.

From: Francis

-------------------

_Are you okay, mon ami? Are you home yet? The little bien-aimé wanted to know how you were._

The curly blond's constant check ups were annoying the _fuck_ out of Alfred.

To: Francis

-------------------

_Again? M'fine Francis. Just a headache. Tell Mattie I'll be home a lil late. Stop texting me. At work. _

With that, the blue eyed man returned to his work. He had already forgotten what he was supposed to be doing. Now, frustrated and irritable, Alfred shoved his phone in his pocket and decided that this was the perfect time for a break. Chance to clear his mind.

Unfortunately for him, it did the exact _opposite_.

Alfred took a seat on a chair in the reception room of the building. There were two large windows on each side of him. He had been avoiding windows since Arthur left. Windows let you see outside. Outside was where the sky was. And well, Arthur was in the sky now. Somewhere.

The blond slumped against the padded back of the chair, eyes fixated on the dark clouds swallowing the sky. _Rain_. Of course. It always seemed to rain now.

He wanted coffee. Correction, he needed coffee. Even if it burned his throat and made it even more raw than it was before.

Alfred rubbed his temple and squeezed his eyes shut. Thunder. How wonderful. Just the noise had sent tremors of pain shooting up to his head. Ever single sound made his head pulsate. And Alfred was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing.

_You should be working._

His eyes shot open as he frantically searched around him. It was his voice again. So close. Yet he couldn't see him.

_Matthew is worried about you. Look at yourself, Alfred. You're falling apart._

It was all in his head. Of course. It was just all in his head. He hadn't slept well for a few days, so he was just imagining that perfect voice. He wouldn't be here. Alfred glanced around. All that he saw was the empty reception area.

_I can't stand to see you this way. Why would you do this to yourself? To Matthew? To Francis?_

"W-Where are you?" He felt surrounded. The voice was so close, yet he had no idea where it was coming from. It was driving him mad. If it wasn't enough that he was torturing himself with this phony voice, his chest was hurting. It felt as if he was being stabbed repeatedly in the heart.

"Arthur, where are you?" Alfred questioned, his heart heavy as he hysterically searched around him for the angel.

Of course he was no where to be seen.

_Alfred, please, don't look for me anymore. You have a bloody life. Don't do this to yourself. _

He jolted up from his chair, his eyes searching every nook and crevice of the room. The pain in his chest was becoming unbearable. The phone number on the scrap sheet of paper was burning a hole in his pocket.

Nothing was _safe_ anymore. There was no place he could go to get away from his memories. Arthur had never even been here. Arthur had never set foot in this building. Yet, he felt the green eyed angel's presence beside him.

It was just cruel.

_Alfred, I'm sorry._

Upon standing, the blond man felt weak. His limbs were trembling. He had to grab onto the chair for support.

"Alfred? Are you alright?"

Said man turned from where he stood to see one of his co-workers, a worried look on their face as they hesitated to get closer.

The blond man stood still for a moment. Waiting. Just waiting to hear the voice. But it was gone now.

"M'fine!" Alfred smiled, and stretched his arms. "Jus' fell asleep and I got up too fast."

The other nodded and walked back into the work area. Alfred trailed behind.

He found himself back at his desk. The papers were still piled up, a big stack just as he had left it unfortunately. Alfred held his face in his hands and stared at the desk. Arthur's voice was so close. Yet, it was nowhere close enough.

That had been happening to him quite often now. That voice would always play in his mind. Of course, he knew Arthur wasn't there.

Just the thought that Arthur could've been there was what made Alfred's stomach twist. Every time he heard Arthur's voice, or saw Arthur, his heart broke. Over and over again. It was almost like losing him repeatedly.

It just _never_ hurt as much as it did the first time.

----

Each day seemed to last a little longer than before. When it was finally nine o' clock, Alfred literally jumped out of his seat and clocked out. He didn't want Matthew to worry. He didn't even have the chance to call and tell the boy he was going to be awhile.

Rushing to his car he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Ten missed calls and five text messages from Francis. The blond rolled his eyes and sped off towards his house.

Alfred knew he _shouldn't_ worry about Matthew. After all, Matthew knew how to take care of himself. But he couldn't help it.

He drove down the streets, ignoring the speed limits until he finally found himself in the drive way. The American quickly got out of the car, slamming the door and locking it before running up to the door. He was about to unlock it when the door swung open. He was greeted by two, obviously worried, amethyst eyes.

"I-I'm so sorry, Mattie. I'm _sorry_," Alfred apologized as he caught his breath and pulled his brother into a hug. The younger led him inside and shook his head.

"It's alright, Alfred. You hungry? I made hamburgers."

Still holding tightly onto his younger brother he gave a weak smile.

"That sounds great."


	14. Existence

**A/N: For you guys :3 I finished this as soon as possible. Gah, well, the whole dream part of the story was basically thanks to a friend of mine. If it wasn't for her awesomeness, this chapter wouldn't have been finished so fast. Also, follow me on Twitter if you'd like. I was finally pressured into making an account. Follow me at /hetalialovesyou**

* * *

It had been one week.

Well, to be _precise_, one week, four days and I think twelve hours now.

I hated every blasted second of…of—well, I suppose you could call it _waiting_. But that just makes it sound more pleasant that it really is.

I was slowly, but most definitely being tortured. It was as if I was living out my existence from one dream to the next. Yes, yes, I know. Heaven was supposed to be a paradise where you sleep on white pallid clouds, roads paved out of gold, and everyone had a smile on.

What a load of bollocks.

It was more like I was _condemned_ to stay in this blasted place. I had all the time in the world to think and contemplate my departure from Earth. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't noticed that where I usually would sleep there was a perfect view of a house that was _far _too familiar.

Cor blimey. I was going stark mad. _Fate_, the old sod told me, _it was fate that I landed in_ that_ backyard. It was fate that_ his_ house was right there below _my_ favorite area._ It was simply just fate this and fate that. The old duffer managed to get on my last nerve.

How they let a _git_ like him be God, no one knew.

He could've stopped this whole thing from even happening. He could've beamed me back up from heaven or something.

But _no_, he said. _It all relied on fate_. Bugger all.

I found myself sitting in that wretchedly perfect spot ever since I had returned, even though I wished I wasn't. I wanted to walk away from everything that was happening down below. But I _couldn't_. I was the one who had caused it all to happen.

Alfred was falling apart before my eyes and there was nothing I could fucking do.

There were days where I would scream and yell, crying out at that house. My heart sank whenever I saw Matthew, how he had to take care of his older brother and how he had to act as if he was strong enough to handle it all. He _wasn't_. That was a _fact_. I had witnessed it. I watched him curl up on his bed daily, _weeping_, because he couldn't fix his brother. He was just a_ child_. And I had placed that upon him.

I had successfully ruined two perfectly happy lives in only one week.

If_ fate_ had never made me fall into that backyard, if _fate_ had never made me fall in love with Alfred, well, let's just say life would be so much easier._ Lonely_, yet easier.

I never wanted to leave. Believe me. I wanted to stay more than anything, if I had such a choice. I would've given blasted world to stay in that house.

But of course I couldn't. I was an angel. I had to die before meeting the one person I would have loved to spend the rest of my life with.

Sod it.

My days consisted of sitting in my spot, unmoving, and watching Alfred F. Jones destroy his life. _Why_, you ask? Because I felt guilty. I felt so bleeding guilty and I couldn't even do anything about it. I had to watch him slowly spiral into madness. Things weren't supposed to end this way. After I left he was supposed to finish his living his life. Happily. Fall in love. _Forget _about me. No. No, no, no. It was not supposed to fucking end this way.

If he would have just _listened_ to me, he would not be this way. If he would have just bleeding _forgotten_ about me—no matter how much it hurts to think about—and lived on like it had never happened, this wouldn't be happening.

I wanted to hold him. Comfort him. Pick up all the pieces and put him back together again. I wanted to tell him everything was going to be just fine and that he would be back to normal again soon. Tell him…well, that I _loved_ him.

It all just felt like a terrible, terrible dream. It was absolutely wonderful in the beginning—being in love. Yes, I know. It was a short amount of time. But it was just one of those incidents where you simply know. Without questioning.

Even when I was living with that man, it felt too good to ever be true. And when I left, we both had woken up from our short dream. It was a dream that no matter how hard we tried to return to by sleeping again, we simply never could. It wasn't that easy, unfortunately. There was now an emptiness in my heart. Like these dreams, where you aren't sure if they ever happened at all in the first place, but faint hints stick with you forever.

Apparently—much to my surprise—Alfred did not deal well with waking up from our dream. I watched as he broke down, cursed God's name, and sometimes, even _mine_. I watched as he screamed and shouted, threw things and punched walls. He wouldn't eat. He wouldn't sleep. He wouldn't even smile unless it was to feign happiness. He was never happy. And it was my fault. It was all my _fucking_ fault.

After his last episode at work I decided I was fed up. I couldn't stand seeing him this way.

So, I went to God—the _last_ person who I would ever turn to, yet, he was my only hope after all.

"Ah, Arthur. What's the matter, my child? You seem troubled."

Old git. He knew well what was the matter. He didn't have to ask me. I stared at the ground. I never really liked talking to him. After all, asking for help was not exactly my cup of tea.

"Hm, let me guess. The Jones family?"

I nodded.

"Sir, please," I began, not sure how to ask Him for something in the first place. "I never ask for anything. I have done no wrong. If you could please, please, just let me see him one last time. That is all I ask of you."

I could feel his eyes narrow down on me. He wasn't a very _lenient _man.

"Please, sir. This is all I will ever ask of you. I _love_ him, sir. And he's slowly, but surely, killing himself. I need to put a stop to his madness because no one else can."

I don't exactly remember when I had gotten down my knees, my nose on the ground. I had never begged for anything in my life, being the stubborn person I was. It sort of shocked me as well. We stayed that way for while and I promised that I would stay there at his feet all night if that was what it would take to save Alfred's life. Even if it meant it would be longer before we were reunited.

"You may."

My head shot up from the ground.

"On one condition."

Of course. "Anything. Anything, _please_, just let me see him."

He smiled down at me.

"He's the only one who will be able to see you. Hear you. Feel you. You will be _invisible_ to the rest of the world. Once Alfred Jones had returned back to his normal health his memory will be erased and it will be as if you never existed in his life. You will be stripped completely from his mind and will have to come back once it is all over. Do you understand, son?"

With a smile I nodded in agreement, even though my own heart had just shattered into pieces.

"I understand _completely_, sir."

Alfred would become healthy once more, after seeing me again. And then, he would forget my existence entirely.

Our love would be forfeit for Alfred's life.

But it was what must be done.

"Farewell, my child."

Whether I liked it or not.


	15. Hallucinations

**_A/N: _Sorry for the delay. ;___; I was on vacation with my family. **

_

* * *

_

I'm falling apart, tearing at these seams that are supposed to keep me together.

"Mattie, what's with the long face, huh? You haven't even touched your food."

_It's only been two weeks. I'm surprised that I'm not dead yet._

The curly blond fidgeted in his seat, glancing up at the older man from his plate. Alfred had cooked dinner for dinner tonight. For the first time in days.

There was something on his mind. Definitely. Alfred could see it in the child's eyes. The blue eyed man did his best to smile. It had been a few hours since Matthew had gone oddly silent. It bugged the crap out of Alfred.

"If somethin's wrong, jus' say so Mattie." He smiled, getting up to put his dish in the sink. He had been eating a bit more. But it was only in front of Matthew of course.

"I'm fine, really. Just…tired."

Matthew was not a very believable liar. But being the oblivious person Alfred was, he hadn't noticed the depressing atmosphere—even though he was the cause of it.

With a soft smile he patted his brother's blond tussle of hair. "What's the matter, Matt? You know you can talk to me. Always."

The young boy hesitated.

"What's wrong is you, Alfred."

The blond froze and stared down at his younger brother.

"D-Don't be silly, kiddo! M'fine!" He chuckled, feigning a smile.

It was inevitable. The happy act always used to work for him. He couldn't even pretend to be normal right now. It wasn't like it as any use to begin with, though. Matthew understood everything his brother was going through—to a certain extent, of course.

"…Alfred. Big brother. I can't handle this anymore," the boy finally choked out, staring at his hands that he had balled into fists. "You're breaking apart and I can't fix you. Nobody can. I…I can't get you out of this one, Al. I just….I just _can't_."

_I thought I was doing fine. At least, that's what I wished. I've been lying to myself this whole time. I'm still a wreck._

"Mattie…Matthew, I'm sorry."

_A lost cause._

"You're doing the best you can…so please, don't feel so bad. M'fine. I-I promise. You're helping me out more than you know." Alfred hoped that would calm the now hyperventilating amethyst eyed child.

It didn't.

With a soft sigh the taller blond walked to the kitchen table, crouching down to move Matthew's hair out of his wet eyes.

"A hero wipes the tears away, yes? I love you, Mattie. Stop crying." Alfred crooned as he used his thumbs to wipe his brother's tears away.

He felt two scrawny arms wrap around his neck.

"I l-love you too, big brother. So p-please, don't leave me…" Matthew pleaded, referring to the dangerous path of destruction Alfred was walking down. "Arthur will come back. H-He wouldn't leave us this way…"

The American smiled.

_If only it was that easy._

"Well, there's something I've been wanting to do."

_Anything to make you happy, Matt._

The smaller boy nodded, wiping his face clean with his shirt sleeve. "W-What is it?"

Alfred chuckled, helping Matthew to the glass sliding door that led outside to the backyard. "A friend once told me, if you leave your door or window open, the thing you've lost will return."

Matthew smiled and laughed softly. "I see. Well, let's leave it open, then. Arthur will come back."

The blond pretended as if hearing his love's name didn't kill him inside. He forced a wide smile even though it felt as if he had been stabbed repeatedly in the heart. "Of course." And the thought of Arthur coming back so easily felt as if someone was twisting the knife in the wound.

Letting Matthew slide the door open, the two stood in the doorway and watched the sun go down. The time had flied by.

"C'mon, you. Let's go to bed."

"Stay in my room, okay?"

"…alright, alright." Alfred chuckled, tossing the smaller boy over his shoulder and walking up the stairs.

He was weak. But Matthew was something he didn't mind carrying.

His broken heart, on the other hand, was a different story.

----

It was late.

Very late.

He had been sleeping just fine until Matthew had shifted in his arms, waking Alfred from his dreamless sleep. As many times as he tried to turn and get comfortable again, the blond had to sit up. He checked the clock that was hanging on the wall.

4:27.

_How wonderful._

This behavior was somewhat normal for him now; waking p extremely early, unable to go back to sleep.

Alfred wriggled out of the smaller child's grasp ad sat at the edge of the small bed for awhile, simply staring. His eyes trailed over his brother's room and ended up fixated on the mirror. There were bags under his eyes. The blue color had faded long ago to a dull gray. He was thinner than before. He looked weak. He _felt _weak.

There was a flash of white behind him in the mirror near the doorway. Puzzled, the American stood, waited for a light headed feeling to pass and left the room, heading downstairs.

Writing it off as his imagination, Alfred dragged himself into the kitchen. The sun was barely starting to rise. Making a cup of coffee he glanced at the door.

_Still open. _

It had been only a few minutes when the coffee had disappeared from his cup. He didn't know what to do with himself. There were still three hours before Matthew would even wake up. From the pain tearing through his chest he guessed that making another cup of coffee was out of the question.

Alfred yawned, his eyes roaming around the kitchen. The sliding door was closed.

_Hm? When did I close that?_

The blond shrugged it off, assuming he had closed the door earlier. With an exhausted sigh he held his face in his hands, and closed his eyes.

He was going insane.

Something soft brushed against his shoulder, yet he never moved, praying for the pain in his chest to go numb.

Then there was a hesitant pat on the American's shoulder.

"Mattie, _please_ go back to sleep."

It was silent, and just before the other was going to speak, Alfred turned.

But the eyes that met his were green.


	16. Thread

**A/N: Fast update is fast, yes? :D**

* * *

He looked so real. His pale skin was flushed a light pink, his eyes a dazzling emerald, his sandy blond tussle of hair was untidy and dishelved. His hallucinations had never done him this justice.

"Alfred, I—"

_No. Please don't do this to me._

The blue eyed man stood, staring at the beauty in front of him. He reached out, testing the waters. Alfred needed to know that this was real.

_Please. Don't tell me I'm crazy_.

"You're such a bloody fool."

Once his hand touched the other's cheek, the American stifled a sob. Real. He was _real_.

_Arthur._

Before the angel had a chance to react he was pulled into the other's arms. Even though Alfred had lost weight, he was still notably larger than him. That made the creature smile.

"What on Earth are you doing to yourself?"

Both knew the answer to this question but neither spoke up. Instead, the man stroked Arthur's tender cheeks, gazing down into the endless pools of green.

"You're real, you're here," he chanted, unable to believe his own words.

The Briton placed his hands on top of the large tanned hands with a delicate smile. "Of course I'm real, git."

Alfred leaned down to kiss the angel's soft lips before giving a happy sigh. "You've come back to me...to us." He smiled weakly, his heart swelling with joy.

"...Yus. I have."

"Alfred? What are you doing?"

Eagerly, the blue eyed man spun around on his heels. It was wonderful timing on Matthew's part. Alfred moved to the side, placing Arthur in clear view. "Lookit who's come back!"

The curly blond gave his brother a quizzical glance.

"I don't see anything."

"...what?"

_Oh God. I really am going insane._

"Alfred, hold on for just a moment, I need to talk to y—"

"You can't see him?" Alfred frowned, staring at his brother as if he was stupid. "He's _right_ here!"

Matthew rubbed his eyes and stared long and hard where the older blond was pointing. Sure, he was pretty blind without his glasses but he _wasn't_ blind enough to see that there was absolutely no one standing beside his brother.

"Who's there, Alfred? I don't see anything."

The angel tried to stop the man from talking, knowing the child would only suspect that Alfred had finally gone over the edge of sanity.

"Arthur! He's right here!" Alfred said sternly, holding up the creature's hand in his.

"...maybe you should get some rest, Al. You're seeing things." Matthew sighed as he walked past Alfred and right through Arthur. The blue eyed man watched in horror.

It was a hallucination.

Arthur could see the pain flash in Alfred's eyes. "Alfred, please, will you just listen to me?"

"How did he—, but, I can touch you. How did he just..._how_!?"

The anguish in the tortured eyes was nearly enough to make the angel cry right then and there.

"I don't understand! I-I, I held you! _I _can hear you! You're _real_!"

Alfred screamed.

Before either Matthew or Arthur had the chance to react, the American collapsed to the floor, clutching at his chest.

At the moment, all three could feel time slow to a halt. The two conscious listened frantically for a heartbeat.

It was there. Fragile; barely audible.

With a sigh, Arthur couldn't help but hope that God felt at least a tad bit guilty.

----

Hours lulled by—Matthew had noted—since they had sent his brother to the emergency room.

The curly blond was sprawled across a bench in the waiting room; his head nestled in a certain Frenchman's lap. Arthur sat beside Francis and occasionally touched Matthew's hair, listening as the older man crooned, causing the child to relax. He wore an assuring smile.

The angel didn't understand _why_ he was even sitting in the waiting room to begin with. He knew he could be in the ER with his love. But it wouldn't feel right. He wanted to wait and go in together with Matthew and Francis.

To Arthur these three people were his family—in a sense. A broken and rather _odd_ family, yes, but Alfred was the single strand that had tied them all together. And now, that thread was tearing apart. Barely holding on.

"Jones' family?"

The trio glanced up at the nurse. She was a small, slight blonde with a satin bow on the top of her head. Her eyes looked almost apologetic.

"That's us, cheri~" Francis smiled as Matthew sat up as well.

"Mr. Jones is in his room. You may see him now."

All three rose from their seats as the nurse showed them to Alfred's room.

Once Matthew dashed into the room, Francis stopped the quiet nurse at the door. Arthur--who was still hesitating to go inside—decided to listen in.

"Ah, pardon me, mon cher," he quietly whispered, even though there was no one in the hallway. "How is he? Do you know of his condition?"

The blonde flushed, too close to the man for comfort. "I-I d-don't know anything, sir. I was only told to lead you to the room...I haven't seen his chart, so I'm sorry."

With a grunt Francis stood up straight and exhaled softly. "It is not your fault, thank you, though."

"Ah! If it's of any importance, I remember that Mr. Jones was mumbling a name constantly over and over." The nurse piped up and the Frenchman's attention returned back to her.

He raised a brow. "Is that so~? Do you remember the name, perhaps?"

"Arthur."

It was at this point that the angel decided he didn't want to listen to the rest of the conversation. He turned his back and walked inside the room.

The body in the hospital bed was so beautiful, and disgusting all at the same time.

"Alfred..."

Said man turned his head slightly, barely breathing as Matthew held on tightly to his tanned fingers. A gentle smile graced his lips and he whispered the other's name in return.

_I was wrong. I thought I could fix him_.

"I'm so sorry."

_All I've done is thinned the strand of thread_.


	17. Torture

**a/n: Uhm. Get tissues. Lots of them. **

**Guh, I was supposed to post this a day ago but apparently it needed major editing. I'm just a fifteen year old childddd. D': *tried to rush through this chapter--which resulting in major fail***

**So, my friend so nice enough to help me revise this chapter. :) Enjoyyy.**

* * *

There was a quiet knock on the door before it was opened slightly.

"Ah, good morning."

The Jones' family—excluding Alfred who had been sleeping for an hour or so now—looked up in the direction of the voice. A man was standing in the doorway, clad in an attending's jacket. He was of Asian descent, with jet black hair so long that it had to be held back in a ponytail.

He smiled. "I'll be Alfred's doctor tonight. It's a pleasure to meet you."

After shaking everyone's hand and exchanging names besides Arthur's, he glanced down at Alfred's chart for a moment. Arthur squirmed in his seat. He didn't _want_ to hear what he had done to Alfred. He didn't _want_ to know what would make such a strong person become so weak.

"Well," the man started, still eyeing the chart with slight disgust before placing it down on the bed. "It's not a very wonderful condition. In fact, it's a _miracle_ Mr. Jones is still alive."

Matthew shifted in his chair and Francis placed his arm around the younger child. "…Is that so?"

The doctor nodded. "You explained to the doctor earlier that Mr. Jones has been hallucinating and has had chest pains?"

Francis confirmed the doctor's question silently with a nod, waiting for the man to continue on while Arthur stared at the seemingly lifeless body on the bed, counting every breath. Matthew had pressed his face into the older man's shoulder, not wanting to listen as well.

"Explain, again, to me what his diet consists of. Has he been eating unhealthily?"

The child peeked around Francis at the doctor and mumbled, "He didn't like to eat much. The_ last_ thing I remember him eating was part of a hamburger. Big brother normally drinks coffee and that's it."

With a frown the doctor scrunched up his nose.

"How long has he been under these conditions?"

"U-uhm…a week or so.."

"Hm. Coffee is a stimulant that speeds up the heart rate and blood pressure. And according to…Matthew, correct?—" The child nodded and urged the doctor to continue—"He's been drinking only coffee for the past…"week or so". _Much_ more than recommended. By not eating and not drinking any water, Alfred's body is now malnutritioned and his brain is dehydrated. This will explain the hallucinations." Stopping to take a quick breath the doctor sighed.

"Alfred's body is eating away at itself. If he's been sluggish or tired often that's because the body eats away at muscle before fat. From the large amount of coffee intake, I can assume he has an addiction. He _will_ have a heart attack if this continues." He said in an almost scolding tone before carrying on. "Due to his body's health there's a chance that when he falls asleep, he may slip into a comatose state. It would be good for him to stay in the hospital for a while. Depending on his condition by next week, he may go home with an IV drip and a nurse."

Francis gripped onto his pant's leg, somehow managing to keep his poise while Matthew on the other hand was about ready to cry. As for the angel, well, tears were streaming down his face.

_I couldn't bleeding fix him. _

"Is there not anything you can do for him? Please, monsieur, tell me there is."

_It is not supposed to be this way._

Tears fell from the angel's eyes as he watched his love breathe slowly.

"We would have tried therapy, which is usually the common thing to turn to first off. But, he isn't responding at all. There isn't much more we can do until his body responds to the medication given."

Arthur watched as Matthew pushed the Frenchman's arm away and jumped from his seat, dashing out the door with tears in his eyes. Francis stared at the doctor for a moment before standing and quickly jolting out the door to chase after the child.

The doctor sighed softly, expecting such a reaction from a person so young. He turned back to the American sleeping on the placid hospital bed.

_I was_ too_ late. _

"Well, Mr. Jones," the man murmured as he picked the chart back up. "All we _can_ do now is pray."

Arthur didn't bother to wipe his face clean as he quickly walked out of the room to figure out where Matthew had run off too. He would deal with Alfred in just a moment. The angel couldn't stand to be in that room alone with him.

"Mathieu, Mathieu, _please_ do not cry. I beg of you, bien-aimé," Arthur heard Francis whisper, trying to coax the child who had been reduced into a crying mess.

The older man had pulled Matthew to the side of the hallway so they wouldn't be a bother. Arthur watched in aching pain.

"He _can't_ leave me! He _can't_ leave me,_ too_! I won't stand it!" The blond cried out, shuddering as he clutched onto the Frenchman's shirt.

Francis held the trembling child. He was angry. _Very_ angry. If Alfred had simply listened in the beginning and called the number he had given the stubborn fool, he wouldn't have ended up this way. He had gone through the trouble of setting up a professional doctor to help Alfred out. But the American couldn't even do something as simple as call a phone number.

Even though the curly haired blond was furious with the other man, he held Matthew tightly and wiped the child's tears away. He couldn't be mad _now_.

"Mathieu, I will not leave you. At the least, I promise this to you." He smiled faintly as he embraced the crying boy. There was nothing he could do. He wasn't the one who could make it right.

_What have I done?_

Unable to watch anymore Arthur stormed back to the room, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't fix the one person he loved. He was utterly _useless_. If he had only come back faster. If he had only asked to see Alfred sooner before watching him come undone.

It was torture.

The angel stood feet away from the body in the hospital bed. He didn't want to get any closer. The guilt was already eating him up inside. He could hear Matthew and Francis walking back down the hall.

"Arthur…"

Staring into pools of brilliant blue the Brit hesitantly took a step forward. Alfred's gravity continued to pull him closer. The blond gave a large smile, reaching out for the other as his other hand pulled off his oxygen mask slightly to speak.

Arthur gave in and stood beside the blue eyed man's bed. Alfred grabbed a hold of the angel's hand and sighed contently.

"Where are Matthew and Francis?"

"T-They're outside. They will be right back. Alfred, I—"

With a smile the American shook his head. "Don't say you're sorry. This isn't your fault. I wasn't strong enough to wait for you. _I'm _sorry, Arthur. I really am."

Tears only fell from the creature's eyes faster. He couldn't seem to find his voice.

"It's so cold, Arthur," the golden blond whispered softly as he clutched onto the other's hand, taking a quick breath into the oxygen mask.

Running his finger over Alfred's jaw, the angel shuddered. Not yet. He couldn't leave just yet. "J-Just hold on a moment longer, please. Matthew and Francis are coming."

"You're all I need."

"…You are leaving everything behind. Do not bleeding do this to yourself."

Arthur choked back a sob as he let go of Alfred's hand to hold the tanned face between his own hands. He pressed his forehead against the other's, willing the tears to go away and prayed that he could be strong.

The door opened. Francis walked in, Matthew clinging onto the older man's hand.

"Ah, you are awake."

Matthew rushed over to his brother's side, beside Arthur and held onto the bed sheets. "Big brother…"

Alfred kept his attention on Arthur for the moment, kissing the angel's soft pale lips before wiping away oncoming tears with the brush of his thumb. "I meant what I said, Arthur. I'll love you even_ after_ my dying day."

The Briton couldn't remember when he had _ever_ cried so violently before.

"Mattie," He smiled; a weaker smile than before. "Francis."

Just the sound of his name made the curly blond cry. Walking up behind the smaller blond, Francis nodded, waiting to hear what the man had to say.

"I'm _so_ sorry. To the both of you," he said, sounding disappointed in himself. Alfred raised his hand as Francis was about interrupt.

"Matthew, I love you so much. Please, don't cry." Alfred smiled, as he wiped away the child's tears with one hand, still holding onto Arthur's with the other. "Please forgive me."

Matthew nodded, sniffling as he gripped onto the tanned hand.

"Francis, I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I was stubborn and didn't think I needed the help. Thank you for being such a great friend."

_No. Not like this. This cannot happen. You cannot leave this way._

"Arthur, don't let me go, alright?" The American chuckled weakly, the beeps on the heart monitor slowing down. A nurse rushed into the room in response to the slowing heart rate.

The angel wrapped his arms around Alfred, holding onto the man tightly and wept. Matthew squeezed his brother's hand while Francis merely stared, both unable to think of words to say.

Rain began to pour outside as the beats of Alfred's heart faltered.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be the hero."

Before even having the chance to panic, the door was slammed open; the nurse from before rushed in with a cart almost twice her size, the attending and another doctor right behind her.

"Code Blue," the calm voice on the intercom repeated overhead as Francis and Matthew were shoved out of the way. The attending hastily ripped the white bed sheets off of the American while the other doctor charged up the paddles.

It all seemed to happen so fast.

"Clear."

Alfred's body jolted up at the touch, his heart pounding rapidly before slowing down once again. Persistently, the doctor repeated the process over and over, until having to stop.

The sound of the flat line chilled them all down to the bone.


	18. Smile

**A/N: W-Well. Here we are. Rehabilitation is...complete. *shot* Please, enjoy. I'm sorry if it disappoints...**

**And for the part about God, don't be offended. (Is a Christian, lol.)**

* * *

Everything had happened all so fast.

I watched as they placed the covers over his face. His eyes were closed, and a dreamy smile graced his lips. He looked so peaceful. More than he had been these past few days.

He was happy. Yet, I couldn't stop myself from crying. I would _never_ see those blue eyes again. I would _never_ hear his voice again. I would _never_ see his smile again.

My brother was taken away from me. And I had no say in the matter.

I tried to stand. I tried to scream, to yell, to do anything. But, nothing happened. I didn't want them to take him away. They couldn't. He was all I had. They couldn't just do this to me. God couldn't just do this to me.

I _never_ did anything wrong.

"Please don't take him away," I whispered.

My voice was so quiet. I don't think even Francis could have heard me. I wanted to get up and drag his body back. I wanted to throw the sheet to the floor and find Alfred's smiling face. I wanted him to wake up.

I couldn't move. I almost stopped breathing.

If God was supposed to be the one to answer my prayers, then, why didn't he do anything?

Why did he have to take the only piece of family I had left?

Even though time through my eyes had completely screeched to a halt, everyone else moved so quickly. They took his body away, shook my hand, then Francis', before mumbling a humble, "we did the best we could."

It wasn't their fault. I had known for a long while that he wasn't going to make it through. But I still kept that slight hope. I held onto that sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would pull through his loneliness and he d be stronger than he ever was before.

And apparently, it wasn't God's will for my brother to pull through.

The last thing I remember that night was falling asleep at Francis' house, in his arms while I cried myself to sleep.

I didn't know how to feel anymore.

---

The service was beautiful. Well, as beautiful as a funeral service could possibly be. I never left Uncle Francis' side and desperately clutched onto his hand the entire time as strangers, classmates and faces I could barely remember shook my free hand.

They were nice to me, even the ones who didn t know me. Some would even hug me and whisper," I'm sorry for your loss," in the sincerest tone they could muster. I could only nod as they walked back to their seats.

I cried, _naturally_. Uncle Francis said it was alright for me to cry, so he held me close for awhile. I don't remember the tears ever stopping.

But, I wasn t particularly sad.

Alfred was the only family I had. He raised me, taught me, and cared for me more than my parent's ever could have. He protected me. He was my hero. I had the right to be sad. Tears streamed down my face, but my heart felt light instead of the heavy weight I had been carrying around for the past week.

For a bit, I felt guilty that I wasn't all that sad.

As the preacher began to say a few words I let my eyes trace over the crowd of people around the freshly dug grave.

People were crying hysterically, most, I had never seen before. I had never noticed how many people my brother knew. And even though he knew how much these people cared about him, he gave his life away to be with someone whose time on Earth was already over.

Even some of my classmates were crying. My classmates some who I had never even spoken a word to me had come, and were crying over my brother's death.

It was just _so_ odd.

As we all stood under the green canopy, Alfred's casket was lowered into the grave slowly.

I could feel almost all eyes on my reaction. But all I did was stare.

"Mathieu, are you alright?"

That voice had become so familiar to me now. I glanced up to meet a pair of worried eyes.

And I smiled.

"I'm fine," I said.

Francis nodded, and gave my hand a gentle squeeze as they began to cover the casket with dirt.

It felt like my heart was ripping in half. A part of me wanted to push everyone away and uncover the casket with my brother inside. I wanted to believe he was still alive, and it was all a _huge_ misunderstanding.

But the other--_sane_--part of me, knew that it wasn't true. So, swept up into a hurricane of mixed emotions, I watched solemnly as Alfred was buried into the Earth.

After the ceremony was over, I shook hands with everyone once more, assuring classmates that I would be at school the next week with a smile. I waved goodbye to complete strangers and thanked the preacher for a job well done.

While Francis wasn't paying attention I had slipped out of his grasp and walked back to the fresh grave.

At first, I had no clue why I was even standing there, without tears in my eyes.

But then, the wind blew gently at my back.

"I love you, Alfred. I'm glad you're happy now." I whispered, hoping that the wind would carry my words up to my brother and Arthur. "I'll miss you both. Please don't forget about me."

I smiled.

And at the moment, I could've _sworn_ I felt the sky smiling at me too.


	19. Omake

A/N: Surprise? :D

* * *

He had expected dying to have been a bit more, well, _painful_, but it was really just the opposite. Alfred felt a warm sensation running through his body as many thoughts raced through his mind. He felt at peace despite the fact he had just died, abandoned his younger brother, left Francis with a child that wasn't his, and let his body gradually erode away at itself just the day before. The darkness that had engulfed him not long ago was slowly dissipating into a soft pastel gold. He felt…strangely light.

All the pain was gone. The American's eyes shot open and slowly examined his surroundings, taking in everything, unable to believe it was all real.

He was in the _sky_.

The American stood carefully, his balance wavering as he tried to find his common ground, which was proving to be quite difficult on the cloudy surface. His eyes searched all around him, finding nothing but delicate scenery that seemed to continue for miles and miles on end.

It was nice and all, but it wasn't exactly what he wanted to see at the moment. Alfred stumbled along, walking for what seemed like hours, though it appeared as if he hadn't even moved one step away from his original spot.

As he turned around, Alfred eyes stumbled upon a figure that looked oddly familiar. It was as if he had seen that face before; it was as if they were good friends at one point yet, as he opened his mouth to call out to the other, no name came to mind. The blue eyed man ran towards the figure, now intrigued.

That person would know where he was. Where he could go.

Where _Arthur_ was.

This thought alone was enough to keep the American going.

"H-Hey!"

The figure gave a small, soft, understanding smile—one that calmed your entire soul and let you give a content sigh in return. There was no exact way to describe it. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. Especially about Arthur.

But before the golden haired blond could open his mouth to say anything more, the other raised their hand in a gesture to silence him.

"There is no need to ask, my child. I will take you to him," they said soothingly, turning their back and began to walk forward.

Alfred fumbled over himself, following close behind on the other's heels like a young boy would their parent. In fact, the person's aura alone was comforting like a mother's and protective like a father's. It was…difficult to explain, but the American simply knew that he enjoyed the other's presence in every way.

"So, Arthur is—"

"There."

The figure raised his hand to point in front of them at a large ornate gate, and Alfred paused to gaze up in slight awe—not only at its beauty, but at the_ person_ on the other side who looked as if he had been waiting impatiently for a long while.

It had gotten noticeably darker, and the figure who had brought him all this way was wearing a warm, knowing smile before they had vanished without a warning. After that, all that mattered at this moment was the beautiful angel standing behind the golden gates. Alfred stared running, though his feet still weren't accustomed to the soft surface of the clouds. He ran so fast that he couldn't even feel his legs moving underneath him. If it wasn't for the gate, he was sure he would've tackled the green eyed man to the ground.

Latching onto the bars, Alfred pulled and thrashed about, trying to get through to the other.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed with joy, a bright smile spread across his face and his eyes brimming to the edge with tears as the other creature gazed up at him in wonder, his eyes open wide.

"Alfred, y-you're _here_," the Briton mumbled, almost to reassure himself, and reached out through the bars to reach out for him.

Completely out of breath, the American continued to shake the bars until he could feel them deteriorate in his hands and turn into nothing but grains of sand before his eyes. Then, without any sort of hesitation, Alfred pulled the angel into his arms and refused to let go.

He couldn't fight a large, goofy grin from crossing his lips as he lifted Arthur into the air. "I'm here," he whispered sheepishly, as he let himself fall back onto the clouds with Arthur in his arms, laughing happily. Then suddenly, he felt something wet and cold hit his cheek.

Tears.

Arthur was _crying_.

"W-Why are you crying? I'm here, aren't I? M'right here. So smile."

Crying hysterically, the angel sniffled and frowned down at the American, wiping his eyes carelessly on his arm. "Y-You naïve idiot! How could you do something so selfish? So…so _stupid_!"

Alfred twitched slightly at the bitter truth, averting his eyes as he scratched his cheek. "Arthur, I—"

"Didn't y-you ever stop and actually," —he paused for a moment, wiping his eyes once more although it didn't help much—"think about what the bloody situation you're leaving Matthew in? And even that French pervert Francis!"

Alfred's smile had faded into a soft frown at the Briton's words. Carefully, he wiped the angel's tears with his thumb and chastely kissed his lips. "…Arthur, you don't understand. I can't live a life without you in it. It's just…empty. I wasn't going to drag myself through every day, looking forward to dying," he explained as he wrapped his arms around the other's waist again, pulling the sandy haired creature closer. "C…Can't you forgive me? I know I was wrong. I know I was selfish and reckless, but…a life without you means _nothing_ to me. I need you in order to breathe. So please say it's alright. _Please_."

"That's not true, Alfred," the Brit stared down at the golden blond with a slight frown. "You could've have waited for me."

He could only shake his head as he ran his thumb along the angel's cheek, wiping away the rest of his tears. The American couldn't find the words to exactly explain how much he needed Arthur, but it was true. It was hard to do anything with the other there. Sleeping, eating, and thinking were almost impossible. He knew what he did was wrong, and he knew he had hurt so many people just to be with the one he loved the most, but was it really all that wrong of him? Arthur was the only one on his mind at every time of the day, even in his dreams.

"I love you."

The silence that plagued them in that moment was almost deadly, leaving Alfred anxious. He was about to speak up and apologize once more, but then the green eyed angel gave a warm smile.

"I love you, too."

---

It was eerily silent as the couple watched the funeral procession from the clouds. Alfred wore a sad smile, surveying the faces in the crowd—each one he knew and recognized with ease. He scanned over the scene, searching for Matthew subconsciously as his thoughts jumbled up in his mind. Was he angry? Did he hate him? The American held onto Arthur's hand tightly, watching as his own body was being lowered into the ground. It was just all so strange to him.

As the ceremony came to a close, he noticed Matthew, his Mattie, gazing up at the sky with an expression Alfred couldn't quite put his finger on. Matthew was staring straight at Alfred, and—much to the latter's surprise—he smiled. The blond snapped his head in the angel's direction with an eager smile before turning back to stare at his little brother and smiled in return. _He knew._ Somehow Matthew knew.

"Thank you," he mumbled quietly under his breath and sighed contently, making Arthur turn with a slight smile.

The American pulled the other closer, gently kissing the Briton's head. "He knows."

"That we're together?" Arthur grinned with a slight chuckle. "He was always a smart boy."

"…He did get it from _me_, you know."

"Oh, belt up, you git."

Alfred laughed exuberantly as he wrapped his arms around the smaller angel's waist, pulling him into his lap. "Maybe…for a kiss," he said playfully, which only made Arthur roll his eyes.

The angel slipped out of Alfred's arms with a smile. "Perhaps later."

"What? But, that's not fair!" exclaimed the golden blond as he tackled the other to the ground, pinning him down with a mischievous grin.

Arthur could only smile as he reached up to hold his lover's face in between his hands. "I love you, Alfred."

"I love you, too. More than life itself."

"…I know. I know."

Leaning over the other, Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist and, much to the latter's surprise, gave a thoughtful expression. "You know, there's somethin' I've always wondered. Do people have sex in heaven?"

The Briton gave a puzzled expression and nodded slowly. "…It's possible."

"…There's only one way to know for sure, hm?"


End file.
